The Spaces Between
by EE's Skysong
Summary: When the Acolytes disband, Remy, Piotr, and John are all trying to start their lives over with the Brotherhood and with the Xmen. Acceptance isn't an easy thing to find... Lots of Kiotr and Jonda, some Romy.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: "What're you going to do today, Odin?" "Oh, I think I'll rip my eye out after lunch." "Jolly good!"

(An: Ok, here's my list of Stuph You Need To Know for this story: It's probably going to be long. I have wanted to do a HT fic -forever- and thus I have a lot I want to fit in. But the chapters are going to be short- bite-sized, if you will. I'm not going to deal with the whole "Phoenix Saga". Why? There is no plot. None at all.This is set a while after the Apocalypse debacle, two months or so. The main couples are: Romy, Jonda, Kiotr, Tabietro, Jubby, Rahm, and Storge. The first three are going to be slow, in my odd attempt to make this a bit more believable. No accents will be codified. The only ones I can really do and not feel like a prat for murdering the chars are Remy and Rogue's. If I tried Pyro or Kurt's I'd mangle it so badly I'd probably go into FF remission.)

Ch. 1: The New Tenant (Swirling Shit Vortex)

The Brotherhood wasn't sure what to expect when Pyro showed up on their doorstep. He was ringing the bell, a duffel bag over one shoulder. He was dressed normally except for the flame-proof goggles stuck in his hair.

Lance hesitantly opened the door. For a moment, none of them spoke, and Pyro just stood there, blinking and feeling quite out of place.

Wanda endured this for a second, and then spoke up. "What are you doing here?"

Pyro grinned and fished around in his pocket for a second, then came out with a crumpled piece of newspaper. "I'm here about the ad, sheila."

Wanda forced a smile. "Er, just a second." She shut the door, then gestured the guys back a bit from the door. "What ad?" She began tapping her foot and glaring.

Pietro stepped up with a nervous grin. He and his twin got along... barely. "Uh, well, money's been tight, you know..."

"So you put an ad. In the paper. Where any idiot- more specifically **that** idiot- could see it? What were you thinking!"

"We were thinking along the lines of 'being kicked out'," Lance interjected. "We're broke!"

"Can't we just tell him to go away or something?" Todd suggested from his spot on the couch.

"Er..." said Pietro.

"We need the money," Lance insisted. "He's a freak, but he's a freak with money... besides, if he breaks the rules we can just kick him out."

"Fine, but if this sucks us into some kind of swirling shit vortex... I'm not helping."

The Brotherhood once again clustered behind the door and Lance once again pushed it open. "Sorry about that," said Pietro.

Pyro blinked. "So can I have the room?" He waved his wallet. "I have my first month's rent..."

"Yeah, sure, buddy, now come on, follow me," Pietro said all of this very fast and dashed back inside the house.

"Completely mental," Pyro muttered under his breath, as he shifted his bag and followed. 

"Ok, this is the living room," Pietro gestured to where Todd and Fred were sitting, watching with minor interest, "the kitchen- be careful in there, the roof is iffy and the oven has yet to recieve its exorcism," he gestured at that room, where the defunct table and chairs were looking like they might collapse at any moment, "the stairs, be careful here too," he led Pyro up said stairs and into a hallway, "and here're the rooms. Mine, Wanda's, Lance's, Todd's, Fred's, Mystique's, and here's the empty one." He gestured at the closed door. "It used to be Rogue's, and we haven't opened it since she left."

"Why not?" Pyro asked, opening the door.

Pietro peered inside, then thumbed at the black paint on the walls and the various objects scattered across the floor. "Same reason we haven't touched Mystique's, even though she's long gone: we don't know what'll kill us or else we'd have sold all this stuff for money already. Whatever's in there you can keep. The rent please?"

"Yeah, yeah, ya bugger," Pyro muttered. He handed him a wad of money, then walked into his room.

"Wahoo!" Pietro ran down the stairs, exulting about the money.

Pyro blinked, and then shrugged. "Crazy bugger," he muttered.

A few moments later Lance came up the stairs. He leaned against the opposite wall and watched Pyro unpack. "All right," he said. "Pietro's an idiot. He didn't tell you the house rules, did he?"

"Nope," said Pyro. "They would be...?"

"Rule one: Don't go into anyone else's room, unless they ask you in... and if they ask you in, it's probably a good time to run. But that's not the point. Rule two: You have to get a job. When you get paid, you have to put a third into the jar by the TV. Rule three: No showing off. You can use your powers, but only in an emergency or when you're alone. The last thing we need is mutant protestors showing up at our door. That's pretty much it."

"Right then," said Pyro. Having unpacked, he looked around his room. "Do you guys have anything to eat?"

"About that... Pietro was right about the stove. It's evil. We can't trust it. So basically we've been existing off of cold ravioli and fast food."

"Well that's ok then," said Pyro, heading downstairs. "That's what the Acolytes lived off too."

"Ok, wait," said Lance, catching up. "You guys are supposedly this elite group of well-payed mutant terrorists... and you live off pasta?"

"Yep," said Pyro, walking into the kitchen. "We weren't all that well payed, really, and Magneto was gone so much that we never got our paychecks on time. Remy couldn't get a job 'cause he was an obvious mutant, Piotr barely spoke English, and Vic and Jason were evil and had their own money. So I was the only one who could get a job, and the places that would take me didn't pay well."

"What's up with the past tense, yo?" Todd asked, cocking his head. He was sitting on the table watching this whole exchange.

"Isn't it obvious? The Acolytes are finished. Mags cut our contracts, released the blackmail crap, and sent us out into the world with compensation and a scowl." He pulled a soda out of the fridge.

"So if it was so terrible, why didn't you just quit while you were ahead?" Lance asked.

Pyro rolled his eyes over his soda. "Blackmail, isn't it obvious? Remy had some evil family thing, I destroyed half of my hometown, and Piotr's little sister was in the hospital. Loooong story."

"Where're the other Acolytes anyway?"

"Remy and Pete're tryin' to join the X-men and Viccy and Jason are probably still in the base, in Jason's 'happy place'."

"His what, yo?"

"The little place in his mind that he goes when he's depressed."

Lance looked around, then leaned in closer to Pyro. "There was one thing I forgot. You can't say **anything** to Wanda about her wiped memories. She knows who you are because we've had involvement with Mystique and all, but in her mind she's never met you before today."

"So the sheila doesn't remember that whole mess at the ski slope or the bridge?"

"Nope."

"Interestin'..." Pyro smirked. Just then, Wanda came in. She grabbed a soda out of the fridge. "Well, speak of the sheila."

"The **name's** Wanda, Pyro," Wanda snapped.

"And mine's John."

"John?" Wanda echoed.

"Yeah, ya got a problem with that?"

"You look too... insane to have a name like 'John'," Wanda replied.

"She's got a point," Lance agreed.

"Technically, my name's St. John," John replied. "But in Aussie, that works out ta be 'Singein'. But nobody ever gets that right, so I just stick with John, usually. And don't give me the weird looks, you lot asked for it."

"Ok..." said Wanda.

John shrugged. "Aussies are weird. Go figure." With that he walked out.

"They should make a movie about that, yo," said Todd. "Like, 'Close Encounters of the Australian Kind.'"

"I heard that!"

"I get the idea that nothing around here is ever going to be the same..." Lance said.

"Yep."

(And that is that. There will be daily updates for a week... and then who knows? Please, review; it'll get more interesting.)


	2. Welcome to the Xmen

Disclaimer: "Famous last words: That's your great and deadly beast? It's just a rabbit!"

(An: Here is the second chapter... yes, I'll be keeping to the daily update schedule for exactly a week, because I have seven chapters written already... I've been sneaking this story since January, so I've got quite a bit done... Er, by the way, I'm estimating Illyana to be about six, I have no clue if they ever mentioned her age in the show... -sweatdrop-)

Welcome to the X-men (Personal Obligations)

Three people walked up to the mansion. There was a Cajun in sunglasses, a nervous-looking Russian, and a little blond girl who was looking frightened and clutching his hand. Both of the guys had duffle bags slung over their shoulders. It was pretty late, around nine thirty.

The Cajun pressed the com button on the gates. "Hello...?"

"Yes, this is the Haunted Mansion... how may I freak you out?"

"-Bobby!" There was the sound of a scuffle and then a beep. "Sorry about that. This is the Xavier mansion... can we help you?"

"_Oui_," said the Cajun. "We want to talk to the professor."

"Er... justaminute..."

"Do we let them in?"

"I don't know... they're the Acolytes..."

"But they didn't attack us or anything, and they've got a little kid with them..."

"You idiot! You left the mic on!"

"Just let them in... I need an aspirin."

After a second the gates opened. "See? That was easy... I think," said the Cajun. "Come on, Pete." The three of them walked inside the mansion.

A BIT LATER...

Remy and Piotr's nervousness was not at all helped by the fact that Logan was standing in the professor's study when he recieved them, growling. The professor gazed at them for a moment, lingering on the girl clinging to Piotr. "I'm going to be frank. Why are you here?"

Remy looked over at Piotr for a moment, then back to the professor, and spoke. "Magneto dissolved our contracts. We want to join the X-men. From your point of view we're probably just a couple of thugs looking for a job, but we ain't. Given a choice, we never would've gone for Magneto."

Logan's growl spiked. "And just why should we trust ya, bub?"

"Because, like I **said**, we never wanted to work for Magneto in the first place. He blackmailed us- all of us but Sabretooth."

"Why do you want to join the X-men, though?" Xavier asked.

"One, neither of us has enough money to get back home. Two, because we need somewhere stable to go to take care of Illyana. And three, we want to make up for some of the trouble we've caused as Acolytes. We ain't looking to be accepted or for a handout, we just need someplace to stay 'cause of the _petite_." He gestured at the girl, who squeaked and tried to hide behind her brother. "We decided to stick together 'cause neither of us had a chance alone." Remy leaned against the wall, his expression bland.

Xavier steepled his fingers and looked at them. Then he smiled. "It sounds perfectly all right to me." (Logan didn't look very pleased about this.) "We have a spare room you two can share for now. Does Illyana speak English?" This last was directed at Piotr, who shook his head.

"No, she does not. Please, I would prefer if she could stay with me for a while," Piotr entreated. "The people of this country have not treated her well." Illyana grabbed onto her brother's arm and clung like a limpet, gazing around at the adults defiantly.

"Of course," said the professor. "Logan can take you to someone who can show you around." No one but the professor looked pleased about that.

Logan stood there glaring at them for a moment, then walked out. Remy and Piotr followed, Illyana not releasing the latter. Logan led them into the kitchen, where Rogue was sitting doing homework. She looked up and sneered. "Oh, great. Let me guess- I get to show them around."

"You catch on fast, Stripes," said Logan with a hint of a smirk. He walked off.

Rogue stood up and inspected them. "The swamp rat and the tin man. Who's the squirt?"

"My sister Illyana," Piotr said quietly.

"You know who I am, I know who you are, so let's get something straight, hmm? I'm not doing this 'cause I want to. Kurt involved me in a stupid prank and the professor always makes it so that when I break the rules I have to socialize."

"So he put you on the welcoming committee," Remy interjected, smirking.

Rogue just glared at him. Then she shook her head and turned to walk off. "Come on, let's get this over with." Then she paused. "Oh, wait, it might be a good idea to keep on your toes. It's the New Recruit's DR session time, outside. Not very pleasant." She led them through the mansion, announcing the rooms in a monotone, until she came to the dorms. "Senior X-men stay on this side of the hallway, New Recruits on the other. Your room's at the end of the hall. Think you can handle it?"

Remy and Piotr didn't answer, just headed down that way.

Remy dropped his bag on the floor and sat down. "Tomorrow's gonna be a long day, _mon ami_."

"_Da_," Piotr agreed. He sat down on the opposite bed, and Illyana collapsed on a makeshift bed in the corner.

(Next chapter: John's new job!)


	3. John's New Job!

Disclaimer: "Well, he may've been born with it, but with my style, skills, and knowledge of every action movie ever made, we're gonna perfect it."

(An: I -said- these chapters were gonna vary in length; some are quite long, some are quite short... this one's a good example...)

John's New Job (Our List of Options Grows Thin)

The next day found Pyro nibbling a granola bar and flipping through the want ads in the paper. Wanda yawned and slumped down in her chair. She grabbed a cup of coffee and drained it, looking a little more alive with every sip. "You guys have a lot of coffee."

"There's always money for coffee," Wanda stated, getting another one.

"Too right," Pyro agreed. He downed one himself, then folded the paper. "Job-hunting, lovely."

"I thought you had a job," Wanda said, on her third cup now.

"Got fired," John replied with a shrug. "Happens a lot in this city. Nobody trusts anybody with an accent."

"Nobody trusts **anybody**," Wanda corrected. "Not even if you've known them all your life."

John glanced at her, then shrugged it off. "I loathe job-hunting," he moaned, and then stood up.

"I'll come with you," Wanda said suddenly.

John seemed rather taken aback. "Why?"

"Because I'm bored out of my skull and if I have to spend another afternoon with Toad and those other idiots I think I might just go insane."

"Good a reason as any," John consented with a shrug. "Come on, then."

A FEW HOURS LATER...

John and Wanda were now sitting in a cafe near the mall. John was leaning his head against the table. The nice cool table. This was giving him a headache. "Damn, you weren't kidding about it being tricky to find a job here," Wanda commented.

"If it were easy, I wouldn't have had to live on Spaghetti-O's for two and a half years," John responded. "Ugh." He straightened up, and pulled the newspaper from his pocket, scratching another possible job off his list. "This is getting desperate."

"Why?"

"Two more turn-downs and I'll have to opt for strip-clubs," John said, with a hint of a twitch.

"**Yuck**," Wanda agreed.

"You aren't helpin', sheila," John muttered, grimacing.

"I'm not designed to be helpful," Wanda retorted, grinning.

"Fine, then **you** go get a job in a strip-club," John suggested, standing up.

"Hey, I've already got a job," Wanda said, catching up. "I'm a 'proud employee' at Walgreens."

"Good fer you," John muttered.

"Another day, another person bugging the shit out of you?" Wanda asked, grinning again.

"You sum up my life in ten words. You deserve a cookie," John replied. "Except sometimes I'm the one doing the bugging."

"To who?"

"Gambit, mostly."

"How so?"

"He's easy to annoy- like when he has a hangover. My primary way of waking him up was flicking cards at his head."

Wanda laughed at that mental image. She sat down at a bus stop to wait as John entered his second-to-last job prospect.

ABOUT FIFTEEN MINUTES LATER...

"And...?" Wanda asked as John approached the bench.

"I am now," John responded, joining her, "a 'proud employee' of the local Bean Me (1)."

"Ah. Really. Why you'd pick here, anyway?" Wanda asked, eyeing the itty-bitty coffee shop.

"I can sum it up in one sentence, my friend: all the free coffee I am willing to make."

"Since when are we friends?"

"Since just now?"

"Ok."

"Bangin'."

Wanda shoved him off the bench.

"What was that for?"

"No reason... I just severely dislike the word bangin'."

"Ok."

"Cool."

(Next time: DR sessions!)

(1) BEAN ME! is a game on the Garfield website.


	4. DR Sessions

Disclaimer: "I am the Lady Door, of the line of Arch." "Hunter, her bodyguard." "Richard Mayhew. Wet."

(An: Ok... yeah... this chapter really sucks in terms of action but in terms of banter it's ok... I guess... oh, well.)

DR Sessions (The Fastball Special)

Remy was getting seriously sick of the strange looks he was getting. _Is it impossible for a person to eat lunch around here or something?_ He finished and walked out of the kitchen, feeling everyone's eyes on him. He gave up on trying to normalize himself to the mansion and retreated to his room.

Piotr at least had found something to keep him busy. He was trying to teach Ilyana some rudimentary English.

"We may as well give up, _mon ami_," Remy proclaimed as he stretched out on his bed.

"On what?" Piotr asked.

"Trying to ingratiate ourselves to the general populace," Remy replied. "To them, we are now and forever the enemy."

"Did you try your thief thing to go unnoticed?"

"First thing I did. Didn't work. Not enough shadowy corners."

"We **are** in trouble."

Illyana cocked her head and asked something, which launched Piotr off into a long explanation in Russian.

Remy groaned. _This sucks._

Kitty poked her head through the door. "The professor wants to, like, see you guys." She smiled at them and backed out.

"That is one of those things it is going to take a while to get used to, isn't it," said Piotr.

"_Oui_."

ABOUT FIVE MINUTES LATER, THE DANGER ROOM...

Remy and Piotr were staring up at the control room, where Hank and Ororo were watching them from their nice safe box. "_D'accord_- so we're supposed to beat the shit out of things that pop up at us. And you're going to use how we fight to get information on our styles and you're going to use that for... what?"

"Just run the sim and you'll get it, Gumbo," Logan replied.

"And why is he here!" Remy demanded, making sure that Piotr really was standing between them.

"Because I'm going to have to pull your sorry asses out of this anyway," Logan responded. "This isn't a training sim; it's to test your endurance."

Piotr spoke up now, looking increasingly nervous. "What are we fighting?"

"Sentinels."

Remy and Piotr exchanged "oh shit" looks.

"If you're all 'in the loop' now," said Hank from up top, "shall we begin?"

"Run the damn sim, Poindexter," Logan responded.

"As you wish..."

The drab metal walls of the DR room faded away, to reveal an (if possible) even drabber warehouse scenario.

"Lovely," Remy muttered under his breath, pulling out a card pack and nervously shuffling the deck.

Piotr powered up, examining the space.

Logan just looked bored.

With the background came three Sentinels.

"Gumbo," said Logan, who was apparently now behind Remy, "think you can keep two Sentinels busy for a minute?"

"It doesn't really matter, because you're going to make me do it anyway, aren't you."

"You catch on fast. I need one alone with the Tinman."

"That's what closets are for."

"Now you just have a death wish."

Remy ignored that last and ran up between two of the Sentinels. "HEY!" he yelled at the top of his lungs. "Grade A mutant, right here! Come 'n get _moi_!"

Meanwhile, Logan sidled up to Piotr. "Get the feet of that one there. Knock it over if you can, or at least keep it off me."

"Right."

All three of them would've gone after Remy, except that Piotr was now hammering at the feet of one of them. While it was distracted with Piotr and the other two were busy chasing Remy (and catching up easily) Logan jumped at it. Using Piotr's shoulders as a handy springboard, Logan jumped and popped out his claws, getting close enough to behead the nasty thing.

"HEY! I COULD **REALLY** USE SOME HELP OVER HERE!" came Remy's frantic shout. He was running between the feet of the Sentinels and just barely avoiding their lasers.

Logan got an idea. It was a stupid idea, and it was a desperate idea, but hey, one outta two wasn't bad. "Russky. (1) Toss me."

Piotr (who was obviously racking his brains for ways to help Remy as well) stared at him. "...WHAT?"

"Never mind, just toss me!"

Piotr hesitated again.

"DO IT!"

Piotr, seeming to go against his better judgement, did as Logan said and threw him. Since he had pretty good aim, Logan went up and neatly beheaded all three Sentinels. (2) A computerized voice said "Simulation complete" and the background disappeared. "Now that," said Logan, landing neatly next to Remy and dusting off his hands, "is what you call a fastball special."

Remy (who was looking rather fried) couldn't do anything but gape.

Ororo grabbed the mic from Hank. "The entire rest of the X-men want you to know: that was **awesome**."

"Wait. They were watching us?" Remy asked, stopping dead.

"Indubitably," Hank agreed, recapturing the mic and resisting the urge to glare at Ororo.

Remy muttered something that was probably rude under his breath and exited the Danger Room.

FIVE MINUTES LATER...

Logan led them into what he called the "War Room" and proceeded to give them a lecture which Remy completely ignored. He was too busy wondering if this would further alienate him from the rest of the group. He considered himself a "people person" and thus such loathing bothered him.

He got his answer as Logan finished his blathering and released them on the world.

There was a bamf and Kurt, still uniformed, appeared in front of them. Remy blinked and Piotr jumped about half a foot. Kitty appeared in a much less suprising manner, phasing through the wall.

"That was SO COOL!" Kurt cried, jumping around. "With the thing- and the explosions- and the THROWING!" Believe it or not, he just got more incoherent from there.

"Kurt, I think you're confusing the nice people," Kitty said, after about two minutes of straight blather.

"Yeah, you lost me... when you opened your mouth, _mon ami_," said Remy, blinking.

Kurt stopped talking and looked at Remy like he was the one making no sense.

Kitty not-so-subtly backhanded him and then beamed at the other two. "Excuse Kurt, he's got a high metabolism and the IQ of an overripe rutabega."

"Do not!" Kurt objected. He stood up straighter, crossed his arms, and did a "royal sniff." "I have the IQ of an overripe piece of **cheese**."  
"Bleu or cheddar?" Remy quipped.

Kurt stuck his tongue out at him. "Cream, obviously."

Somehow, that was the beginning of friendships... no, they didn't understand it either.

(Next time: Bad Karma!)

(1) Don't know how the hell you're supposed to spell it.

(2) That's called "The-author's-bad-at-action".


	5. Bad Karma

Disclaimer: "Wow! This is amazing! Must've taken a hundred- no a thousand years to carve this!" "Hey look, I made a bridge! It only took me like what, ten seconds? Eleven, tops."

(An: Stupid me. I forgot to mention that the only reason I put in the last chapter at all is because I think that the Fastball Special is the COOLEST move ever. Always have. Anyway, betcha didn't guess this chapter was about Tabitha, didja?)

Bad Karma (the Cat Came Back)

Two new arrivals in two days at the Brotherhood house. Who woulda figured? This time, the Brotherhood were even more confused as to what to do with their newby. That's because she wasn't exactly a newby...

"**TABITHA'S** HERE!" Pietro demanded of Lance, who, again, had left their visitor on the doorstep.

Lance nodded. "Why, is that a big deal?"

"DUH!" Pietro cried, zooming upstairs.

"What's up with him?" John asked.

Lance shrugged. "Who knows? You can never tell with that freak."

They got a surprise when Tabitha came over and rapped on the windows. Lance leaned over and opened them. "We're having a meeting, here."

"Yeah, right, with the fire boy and Rocky IX. Where's Speedy?" Tabby asked.

"He freaked and went off to do speed boy things," Pyro said.

"Figures. So can I stay here or not?"

That, naturally, was when Pietro zoomed in, followed by Fred, Todd, and Wanda. "Well, wouldn't you just know it," he said, looking calm and composed (and a lot better groomed than he had a minute ago). "Tabitha Smith." He leaned on the kitchen counter and sang, "But the cat came back, she wouldn't stay away,  
She was sitting on the porch on the very next day;  
The cat came back, she didn't want to roam,  
The very next day she was home sweet home."

Tabitha pulled a face at him, but she was grinning. "Ah, Piepie, I missed you too."

"What was it this time? One too many boomballs to the plumbing? Did you steal Jubilee's gum again? Or Amara's jewelry?"

"Yeah, right, like I'd steal from my best friend."

"Or life partner."

"Sadly, Amara don't fly the rainbow flag, sweetheart. Do you?"

Pietro just smirked at her.

"Why should we let you in, yo?" Todd demanded, looking kind of pissed. "We already got one girl. The space is taken, and she's a lot better than you, right, Cuddlebumps?"

"Todd, it's seven in the morning and I've yet to have coffee. Keep talking thusly and I may just have justification to kill you."

"That's funny!"

"I wasn't joking."

Tabby watched this with some amusement and then spoke her piece. "Aw, come on, guys, you let fire boy here in. What about me, your old friend?"

"More like village bicycle," Lance muttered.

"Thanks, Rocky. Didja ditch the fruit bowl? Come on, guys, at least let me in. For old time's sake."

"Yeah... but the old times **sucked**," Todd said.

"I got nowhere else to go, guys. Tensions are already kinda bad at the mansion 'cause of the Acolyte boys comin' and I got nowhere but back ta Daddy."

"You back off. B-hood conference." Lance slammed the window shut, leaving Tabby to make faces at Pietro's back.

Wanda and Pyro said, at the same time and completely by accident, "Leave me out of it." They exchanged surprised glances.

"Do we let her stay or what?" Lance asked of the other members, crossing his arms.

"I vote yes," said Pietro, sticking up his hand.

"You would," Todd muttered. "I say no."

Fred shrugged. "I don't care, as long as she doesn't shave my head again."

Lance sighed. It generally sucked to be the unofficial Brotherhood leader. He swiveled and reopened the window. "Fine."

"Aw, Lancey-poo, I love you too." Tabby smirked at him and skipped around to the front, hopping inside. She hopped up the stairs and then paused, looking over the banister at Wanda. "You took my room, right?"

"If you mean Mystique's, then yes," Wanda responded, not quite sure what to make of this chick just yet.

"Care t' be roomies?"

Wanda frowned. "What's that entail?"

"Sharing a room, of course!"

"No, I mean rooming with a psychopath."

Tabby pulled a face at her. "You get free protection from me." To prove her point, she zapped up a boom ball and flicked it at Todd.

"NOT AGAIN!" Todd screamed, having been blown into the next room.

That cinched it for Wanda. "Yes. We're roomies. Just keep doing that."

Tabby grinned at her. "I **knew** we'd get along, girlfriend."

(Next time: Pietro's crush!)


	6. Pietro's Crush

Disclaimer: "PH34R the bunnies! ...I've always wanted to say that."

(An: I've purpousely been avoiding Remy and Rogue- they get more stuff a little later on. Of course, it's not really pleasing stuff, but that's not the point. This part here is Tabietro.)

Pietro's Crush (Applesauce)

Tabitha seemed to have a sixth sense. Instead of being able to see ghosts, though, this one told her when anyone in the Brotherhood was showering, even if she was out.

So naturally she was leaning out of her room when Pietro came out of the shower, clad only in a towel. "Hey, Speedy," she said, smirking.

"Enjoying the view, Tabby-cat?" Pietro responded, returning the smirk.

"Drop the towel and maybe I will be."

"I don't do free shows."

Tabitha ran a finger across his bare back, obviously enjoying the way Pietro stiffened a little. "Sure about that, sweet thing?"

Pietro raised one eyebrow, having temporarily lost the ability to talk.

Tabby's smirk widened. "What flavor **are** you, anyway?" she inquired breezily.

"I could ask you the same question."

"I asked you first."

"You'll have to taste me to find out." And with that he zipped off.

Tabby grinned, licking her finger.

THAT NIGHT...

It was quiet in the girls's room. Too quiet. The lights were on, and they were talking. "I want to see what they're doing," said Pietro.

"Why?" Lance asked, obviously not interested.

"I have a plot sense. My sister and the she-devil are plotting!"

"And..."

"And I want to know what they're plotting!" Pietro cried, bouncing up and down.

"So do your 'superspeed' thing and zoom in there," Lance replied.

"But then they'll know it was me and they'll kill me!"

"Good."

"I want to know what they're doing, too, yo," Todd commented.

"Well, then, c'mon Toad, let's go look."

They went outside. "Gimme a boost," Pietro said, standing by a tree that would give him a convenient view of the girls's room.

Todd didn't look thrilled at that, but helped him up anyway. "See anything?"

"Shh, I can't hear!"

Inside the room, Wanda, keeping her eyes away from the tree, commented, "My brother's staring."

Tabby reached over and goosed her.

Wanda yelped and quickly jumped out of reach. "The HELL was that!"

"I was giving him something to stare at."

"That's my BROTHER, you perv!"

"So?"

Wanda glared at her.

"Oh, fine, I'll get him to go away." Tabby got up and walked over to the sill. She pretended not to notice Pietro, rubbing her hands together and making a nice big cherry bomb. She then turned her attention to Pie, feigning surprise. She put the hand with the boom ball on the sill and waved at him, then flicked it at him.

"TWICE IN ONE DAY!" came Todd's shout.

"Aw, I missed," Tabby said.

"Who cares? You got Toad," Wanda pointed out.

Tabby laughed at that.

THE NEXT MORNING...

Pietro was determined. Since Tabby had come back to the Brotherhood, his little black book had been sitting, unused and lonely, on his dresser. He hadn't been able to think about any other girl but Tabby... which was bugging three kinds of hell out of him. _Ok,_ he thought, standing outside the girls's room. _I just gotta go in there. She's sleeping, I kiss her, bada bing bada boom, no problem, I'll have this outta my system... oh, damn, I'm using her phrase!_

He sucked in a deep breath and zoomed inside. Both of the B-hood girls were fast asleep. He caught himself staring at Tabby, and groaned, but softly. _Damn, damn, damn! Focus, Maximoff, focus!_ He took a few steps over to her bed, walking for once in his life. He bent down, touched his lips to hers-

Tabby woke up straight away, kissing back with no abandon.

Pietro freaked and ran out.

Tabby sat up, a silly little grin on her face as she thought, somewhat sleepily, _Tabitha Maximoff. Has kind of a ring to it._

Pietro ran into his room and shut the door behind him, leaning on it as  
he thought _  
She tastes like applesauce_ (1) and felt very stupid... but very happy.

(Next time: Leather!)

(1) Pretty obvious reference to "Don't Pity Me" by the 'Nutter... according to her Tabby chews apple thingies so she tastes like applesauce. Couldn't resist.


	7. Leather

Disclaimer: "When the actress saw her first strand of gray hair, she thought she'd dye."

(An: I was gonna end the daily update schedule here, but I'm already four chapters ahead of myself again, so I decided not to. Instead, the daily updates will continue until I finally get stuck on something.)

Leather (Small Problems are the Worst)

LATER THAT DAY...

Lance smiled to himself as he pulled out the keys to his jeep. Another date with Kitty. It would definitely perk up the bad day he'd been having.

AT THE X-MANSION...

Kitty sighed, staring at herself in the mirror. _I look fine. I look great. Lance will love me, whatever I'm wearing._

There was a yell from downstairs. "KITTY! Lance is here!"

She couldn't help thinking, _Another date with Lance. This is just_ adding _to my day._ She immediately felt guilty... but she couldn't help but think it was a little true.

A FEW HOURS LATER...

Kitty managed not to sigh in relief as she fell onto the couch in the common room. After the date, she didn't feel like she had enough energy to go up to her room. Dealing with Lance had been bad enough. Luckily, it was empty, but somebody had left the stereo on. Kitty hugged a pillow, thinking, _Lance is my boyfriend, right? He saved my life. More than once. He loves me. I love him. You've only been thinking this way since the new guys came to the mansion. It'll pass._

Then a new song came on.

"Look, I'm standing naked before you  
Don't you want more than my sex?  
I can scream as loud as your last one  
But I can't claim innocence  
Oh, God, could it be the weather?  
Oh, God, why am I here?  
If love isn't forever  
And it's not the weather  
Hand me my leather  
I could just pretend that you love me  
The night would lose  
All sense of fear  
But why do I  
Need you to love  
You can't hold  
What I hold dear..." (1)

Kitty listened to the song and started to cry.

A little while later, when Kitty was all cried out, Rogue came in. She took out the CD and paused. "Somethin' wrong, Kit?"

"Yeah, everything."

Rogue bit her lip, and looked like she really wanted to leave, but sat down on the arm of the couch anyway. "What's the matter?"

"Lance."

"Again?"

"It's just..." Kitty sighed and buried her face in the pillow for a moment before speaking. "It's like... like we've hit a dead end. This is it. This is us. This is all we're ever gonna be. Me and him and his jeep, taking drives, going to the movies, doing things that don't require talking. Then..." Kitty shrugged. "After highschool, he wants to get married."

"Do you?"

"If things don't change..." Kitty shook her head.

Rogue stood up, putting her hands on her hips. "So dump the loser like we've been telling you to. **God** I wish I had your problems." She walked out.

Kitty fell backward onto the couch, staring up at the ceiling. "Yeah," she said, even though she knew Rogue was gone, "but small problems are the worst."

(Mmm, smell that fresh-baked angst. Poor Kitty. She's not gonna get to cheer up for a few chapters yet. In case you haven't noticed, I'm not really "big" on Lancitty. It squicks me. Which is probably why this chapter is so short.)

(1) "Leather" by Tori Amos, off of Little Earthquakes. I think this is my favorite song off of there, and if you've heard the album you'll know that's saying a lot.


	8. Party Girls

Disclaimer: "I'm feeling a little dizzy..." "A little lightheaded?" "Yeah." "Me too. Maybe we should stop." "We have stopped." "Oh, right."

(An: And here we get to the big Tabietro bit. The minor couplings get three chapters each, and then some minor mention. Amazing, no?)

Party Girls (He's My Brother, You Freak)

Wanda was staring up at the ceiling on her bed when Tabitha came in. She was humming to herself and began to put on her makeup. "Don't you wanna get ready?"

"Ready for what?" Wanda asked, sitting up.

"We're goin' out, girl."

"We are? When did this happen?"

Tabby shrugged. "When I saw the announcement about the new, mutants-only club that's opening tonight, I guess... we're gonna party whether you like it or not, my friend."

"Right, right, got it... are we dragging the rest of the freaks along?"

"Pietro, Toddles, and John-boy, yes; apparently, Fred's got a date."

"Really... has the announcement been televised?"

"What announcement?"

"The one about hell freezing over."

Tabitha snorted. "No, really, it's true; she came to pick him up a little while ago."

"Huh. Amazing."

"That's what I thought, but it's true- miracles happen. Now get ready. We're leaving in fifteen."

TWENTY MINUTES LATER...

Tabitha burst into the club with a bang (literally). Nobody batted an eyelash. Tabby threw her hands in the air. "Woohoo!" Tabby yelled. "My kinda joint!"

She grabbed Wanda's arm and dragged her off onto the dance floor.

Pietro shoved Todd towards the bar, handing him his wallet. "Toad, why don't you go get drinks we'll be right here waiting thanks bye!"

"But-"

"Move it, frog-boy."

Todd sighed and headed off.

"Wow, you have him trained," John commented.

"I'm the boss. It's a perk."

John raised his eyebrows. "Right, whatever," he muttered.

On the dance floor, Wanda was having just a small freak out. "I don't know how to dance," she hissed, holding Tabby's arm in a death grip.

"Oh, relax," Tabitha replied, breezy. "That's the beauty of being a girl- we don't have to know how to dance. Guys assume we can, so all we have to do is kind of wiggle to the beat anyway while the guy is the one who sweats it. Just follow my lead, girl!"

Wanda still looked nervous, and stiffly tried to copy the way Tabby was swaying. The song switched from "Sugar, We're Going Down" to "Feel Good Inc." and she stopped altogether.

Tabby nudged her. "Calm down! Loosen up! Just go with it, you know?" Wanda blinked, clearly Not Getting It. Tabby sighed, exasperated. "Close your eyes."

Wanda complied, looking skeptical.

"Now just dance, ok?"

Wanda froze, and then took Tabby's advice, paying attention to nothing but the music.

After a moment, Tabby choked. Wanda opened her eyes. "What?"

"Look over there, they're totally staring," Tabby said, pointing at John and Pietro and looking quite pleased with herself.

Wanda smacked her. "He's my brother, you freak!"

"Obviously, Pietro is staring at me," Tabby replied. "But the fire freak has taken his attention off the candles to stare at you," she poked her in the chest, "girlfriend."

Wanda blushed and didn't say anything more.

"I love party girls," Pietro mumbled, a really large grin on his face.

"It seems to me, mate," said Pyro, smirking rather nastily, "that you'd love Tabitha even if she were a nun."

"Damn straight!"

A LITTLE WHILE LATER...

Tabitha joined the guys at the bar as "Lovefoolosophy 101" (1) started, brushing her hair back. She sat down between Pietro and John.

"Baby baby feel these sweet sensations"

John leaned over and whispered in her ears. "Five bucks says he roots himself up if you pash." (2)

"Honey honey love's like a silver star"

Tabby blinked, and then raised an eyebrow.

"She got a promise- lovestruck fascination"

John facepalmed. "Kiss him and I bet he'll hurt himself," he translated.

"What am I to do how am I to know who you are"

"You're on," Tabby said, smirking. She tapped Pietro on the shoulder. He turned, a quizzical look on his face. "I'm sick of this sexual tension shit." She grabbed him by the shoulders. Pietro blinked. That was all he had time to do before Tabitha kissed him. After a moment, Pietro put his arms around her and started kissing back.

"I'm a lovefool"

"You don't know what you've started, yo," Todd commented.

"I had in my mind about you"

"You owe me five bucks," Pyro said to Tabitha, pointedly ignoring him. (3)

"Seems so true  
I'm a lovefool!"

(Yeah, don't sue me for sticking in song lyrics... they're in a lot of chapters. They're plot devices, and that's my excuse.)

(1) This is by Jamiroqaui. Thanks to my friend Rodri for pointing that out. I love that boy, I really do.

(2) Roots: fucks. Pash: passionate macking session. You KNOW I had to stick in some random/really really weird Aussie slang.

(3) The inevitable this-is-a-Skysong-fic relationship crack. This pops up in EVERY humor/romance I write. Trust me. It's always there.


	9. Advice

Disclaimer: "Good friends help you move. Best friends help you move bodies."

(An: My take on Kiotr is kind of unique- Piotr is shy and quiet, yeah, but he's also a teenager, so... this might sound a little weird. And I SAID at the beginning of this story that the chapters were gonna be short. So there.)

Advice (Get on His Bad Side)

THE NEXT MORNING...

Kitty was frustrated. She knew it was a stupid thing, but she was trying to cling to a project to keep her mind off Lance. That project was the Acolytes. 

She'd gotten to know Remy pretty well- he was hanging out with Kurt so by proxy he was hanging out with her. Either that, or he was hassling Rogue and that meant that Kitty was probably around too. After managing to get Kitty and Kurt to converse normally with him, Remy had had no problems making friends (or bitter, disgusted enemies, in the case of Rogue and Scott).

Piotr was the interesting one. He seemed perfectly content to stay locked up in his room for most of the day, ghosting through the mansion with his little sister or following Remy around and making quiet (but usually funny) comments about the other residents. And he simply refused to talk to Kitty. Whenever he saw her, he'd make sure to somehow leave the room before she could even say hello.

This annoyed three kinds of hell out of Kitty. She was a people person, like Remy, and wanted Piotr to like her, like everyone else in the mansion. She refused to admit that she thought he was cute. Charming, yes. Cute- she had a boyfriend!

Kitty slumped her head down on the kitchen table, muttering obscenities under her breath.

Remy came through, peering into the fridge. He smirked at Kitty, sitting down across from her. "Having problems, _chaton_?"

Kitty looked up, giving him a death glare. "As a matter of fact, yes, not that it's any of your business."

"Sure 'bout that, _petite_?" Remy commented, the smirk widening. "After all, Pete **is** my best friend."

Kitty squeaked. "How did-?"

"I know everything," Remy said. With the look on his face and the eyes and all it was rather creepy. He steepled his fingers and grinned at Kitty over them, ruining the effect.

Kitty just raised an eyebrow.

"Pretty close, anyway," Remy admitted.

"Ok, enlighten me, oh guru of Piotr-ness," Kitty said.

Remy tapped his lips. "Get on his bad side," he said, after a moment. "That's what I had to do. The guy doesn't respond to niceness- he overationalizes, thinks too much. Once he gets the idea that you're honestly being nice, it's usually about five minutes later. His response times need work. But if you do something to annoy him..." Remy spread his hands. "I suggest nicking his sketchbook when he's trying to work."

"Yeah... but won't he hate me then?"

"When I got annoyed with non-responses, I blew it up," Remy replied. "And now look. It's just a very good way to get his attention."

"Uh-huh..." Kitty said, blinking.

Remy clapped her on the shoulder, that evil smirk back on his face. He walked out.

Kitty propped her chin on her fist. _No time like the present, I guess..._ She got up an went to find Piotr.

She discovered him lurking in the library, bent over his sketchbook and biting his lip.

Kitty walked up behind him and tapped his shoulder. Piotr jumped. He looked around, blinking and then flinching slightly when he saw Kitty. "Oh... hello, Kitty."

"Hi," Kitty said, slipping into the seat next to him.

Piotr stared at her for a moment, and then went back to drawing.

Kitty drummed her fingers on the table. "You know what?" she said to Piotr (who didn't look up). "You are without doubt the most annoying man I've ever met." And with that, she phased the sketchbook into the table.

Piotr made a funny little whimper (a noise similar to ones Illyana had made) groping around for it even though it was stuck fast.

"I'll give you your sketchbook back," said Kitty, leaning her head on her hand and smirking nastily at him, "if you'll actually **talk** to me instead of ignoring-avoiding-whatever me." She smiled. "Ok?"

Piotr blinked. "Um... all right..."

Kitty's smile broadened, and she pulled the book out of the table.

Piotr flipped through it, going back to his page. He paused, looking as though he'd realized something. He glanced at her, annoyed. "You talked to Remy, didn't you."

Kitty beamed at him. "Spot on."

Piotr gave her the smallest of evil looks before bending over his book again. She peered over his shoulder. He was working on a picture of Storm, standing out in the rain, her head tilted back in utter ecstasy. (1) "She was standing out like this in the rain we had last night," said Piotr. "I saw her. Most people don't think she's like this- she hides it." He tapped the drawing. "That's what I like about art- you see what others don't."

Kitty nodded, staring off into space. _This was worth it..._

(I SAID I had a weird take on Kiotr. Next time: Squirrels!)

(1) There's a picture like this somewhere on EE's art section... it's a wallpaper in the X-men section, I think.


	10. Squirrels

Disclaimer: "What's a squipmunk?" "Half-squirrel, half-chipmunk, all world-conquering-plot-device."

(An: You wanted weird John, you get weird John... also, a bit of reminiscing!Wanda.)

Squirrels (Pietro's I-Just-Got-Laid-Smile)

Wanda grabbed John's arm. They were sitting in the kitchen, when Tabby came in, in Pietro's t-shirt and his boxers, humming the bass line from "Feel Good Inc." "We have to get out of here," Wanda said, a note of desperation to her voice.

John blinked.

"Pietro's gonna be wearing his I-Just-Got-Laid-Smile. I do **not** wanna see his I-Just-Got-Laid-Smile. I can't stand it!"

"Ok," said John. He got up and walked out, Wanda following.

"Where're we going?" Wanda asked, once they were out of the house.

"The park," John replied.

"Why?"

"Squirrels."

"Squirrels?"

"Yep."

Wanda stopped, staring at him.

"Are you coming or what?"

Wanda caught up. "Why squirrels?"

"They're the koalas of America, only more cuddly."

"Koalas aren't cuddly?"

"Nope." He held up his left hand. A pale scar circled his ring finger. "See that? When I carted one off for a pet, like every other bored five-year-old left to wander the boondocks, it bit me once it woke up enough."

"Huh," Wanda said, putting her hands behind her head and tilting it back to look at the sky.

"Where are you from?" John asked.

Wanda blinked, and closed her eyes, hugging herself. "We lived in Bayville for ages... but when I was little I can remember mountains, and colors, and somebody talking in another language, our nurse, I think. My mom died when me and Pietro were born." She said something in another language.

John blinked.

"That's all I remember of Romany," she said. "It means 'Hello, I'm a gypsy' or something like that..." She opened her eyes, sighing.

"...And here Remy said you'd be the one more likely to bite," John commented.

Wanda shrugged. "What can I say? I like you."

John stared at her for a moment, then noticed they were at the park. He led her to a tree, where a bunch of squirrels were chattering in the higher branches. "Now watch this," he said, grinning. He leaned against the tree and, after a few minutes, a squirrel ventured down and settled in his hair, chattering amiably. "See?"

Wanda gave up and collapsed in helpless giggles.

"What?"

"You have a squirrel on your head. Isn't that enough?"

John tilted his head, holding out his arm. The squirrel scurried down, on his hand now.

This just made Wanda laugh harder, to John's eternal puzzlement.

(Next time: The fight!)


	11. Leather Strikes Again

Disclaimer: "Bite me." "When, where, and how hard?"

(An: Oh, boy, more Lancitty angst. -le sigh- The reason the chapters are short is because, according to my outline, I've fitted in everything I needed to. I want to make them longer, but... that's it. Not that I'm complaining about all the reviews, mind you, but I'd like it if you commented on the CONTENT of the chapter rather than the length. Oh, and Orange, sorry, the Rahm doesn't come in until about chapter fifteen... I should've mentioned that, huh? And goosing is when you pinch someone's ass. -wink-)

Leather Strikes Again (I.. Understand)

ONE WEEK LATER...

It had only been just over a week since that awful date with Lance, and now Kitty had another one tonight. She stared at herself in the mirror again, getting an overwhelming sense of deja vu. She never felt good enough for Lance. She set down her hair brush and stared at herself. _That's it. I can't take this anymore. I-I've just gotta break this off now... letting it go any farther when I feel like this would be just plain mean._ She sighed and pressed her face against her palms. _But that doesn't make this any easier..._

A FEW MINUTES LATER...

Lance knew something was wrong because Kitty didn't just phase through the door of the jeep like she usually did. And her grin was gone- replaced by a shifty look to her eyes and a melancholy expression. Very un-Kitty-like. He turned the jeep off completely and leaned his head out the window. "Ok, what is it?"

Kitty swallowed hard before slipping in next to him- by opening the door, though. She nibbled on her lower lip- another bad sign. She fiddled with her ponytail.

"Kitty, spit it out, please."

She sighed. "At the risk of being cliched, we need to talk."

Lance flinched. "About what?"

"Us," she responded, refusing to meet his eyes. "Where do you think we're going?"

Lance blinked. "To the movies?"

Kitty glared at him. "You **know** what I mean. I mean, you're graduating this year, I'm gonna next year, and then..."

Lance shrugged, uncomfortable. "I dunno... I never really thought about it before... **why**?"

She leaned back in the seat, her eyes closed. Her pause before speaking seemed an eternity. "I... I think we're done, Lance," she whispered.

Lance blinked. "...W-what?"

Kitty sighed. "Look, Lance," she said. "You haven't thought about it, I haven't thought about it- where would we go from here? Sex? **Marriage**?"

Lance winced. Kitty caught it.

"You see?" she said. She touched his arm, but gently. "Lance, I like you a lot, but that's why I think we should stop this, before we get any further- if we keep this up..." She met his eyes. "We'll just get hurt."

Lance swallowed hard. He closed his eyes for a moment, then glanced over at Kitty. "I... understand," he murmured.

Kitty smiled at him. "I mean, this isn't an end forever," she said, phasing back out of the jeep. "I'm just saying... we should both think about this. Ok?"

_No, no it's not._ Lance nodded. Now he was the one unable to meet her eyes. "Yeah, Kitty, I get it."

She smiled. It wasn't a happy smile. "Thanks, Lance." She walked back into the mansion without a backward glance.

As soon as she was out of sight Lance exhaled sharply, falling back into his seat and staring up into the sky. For some reason, he highly doubted Kitty had meant the part about it "not being forever."

After a moment, he drove off.

IN KITTY'S ROOM...

Kitty walked into her bedroom. She sat down on her bed with a kind of mechanical air, as if she was just going through the motions. She reached over and turned on the radio.

"When you gonna make up your mind?  
When you gonna love you as much as I do?" (1)

Kitty recognized the voice instantly. _"Leather" strikes again,_ she thought.

That was the last straw. Kitty fell onto her pillow, crying for first love lost.

(And that's that... I dunno, but I get some sick, twisted sense of satisfaction from writing angsty breakup scenes from the guy's POV... Next time: Sara Louise Adrien (it's longer)!)

(1) "Winter" by Tori Amos, also off the Little Earthquakes album... I highly doubt this was a single but hey, this is fanfiction and that was 1993.


	12. Sara Louise Adrien

Disclaimer: "Oh, me life flashed before me eyes! ...it was really borin'."

(An: Here we get into a part I've been planning since I got into "Misfits." For those sad, unfortunate lot who haven't heard of this AMAZING tagfic, there's a link to where you can find it in my profile. The main character is Sara Louise Adrien, and while I'm going to do my best, I KNOW I'm not gonna do her justice. I don't do "smart" very well, lol. For those of you who HAVE read the fics (I commend thee!), you may recognize the format of this chapter; I kind of nicked it... but then, I do that a lot in this fic, so it's ok. Sara and Misfits are copyright the InterNutter and Foxglove... and yes, I HAVE permission.)

Sara Louise Adrien (FREEDOM!)

The girl in the seat next to Todd's sighed and absently scratched at one hand.

This was what made Todd notice her.

She was tall and thin, with pretty much no female characteristics and helmet hair. Her eyes were closed, so Todd couldn't tell what color they were, but her itchy hand was blue.

He leaned over. "Best cover that up, yo," he said. "Kelley don't like us mutants."

She opened her eyes now (they were brown) (1), blinking. "...What?" she asked, after a moment.

"Your hand," said Todd, pointing at it.

The girl glanced down and gasped. "What on earth-!"

Todd reached over and grabbed her hand, inspecting it. "You must just be gettin' it, yo," he observed.

She jerked her hand out of his grasp, looking annoyed (but not disgusted). "Come now, I don't even know your name!"

"I'm Todd. Todd Tolensky."

"Sara Louise Adrien," she replied, holding out the not-blue hand for him to shake.

"**Now** can I look at it?"

Sara glanced at him a touch warily, but then held it out.

Todd inspected her hand. The blue glitter was in fact a number of aquamarine scales, peeking out from under the skin, which was peeling. "Thought so," said Todd.

"What?"

"You're shedding," he explained.

Sara blinked.

"Your skin," he went on. "I do this once a month, so I know what it's like. Drink lots of water, and try not to pick at it or scratch too much- it'll come off in its own time and when it don't it hurts like hell, yo."

"Thank you," said Sara, after a moment. "...So... I'm a mutant?"

"Duh," said Todd. "Me, I was born like this, but you must just be a late bloomer."

Sara flinched slightly at the comment. "Don't I know it," she murmured.

"What're you talking about?"

Sara raised her eyebrows. Since Todd didn't seem to be getting the hint, she glanced down at her chest, which was decidedly flat.

Todd blushed and backed off. "I didn't mean it like that, yo- when you hit puberty that's when your powers kick in."

Sara nodded, biting her lower lip.

After a moment, Todd's curiousity got the better of him. "What're you doing in here, anyway?"

Sara pointed at the cut on her forehead. "I had an... incident with my locker this morning. Irreconcilabe differences, you know. Of course, me being me, the hall monitor thought I'd gotten into a fight and sent me here."

"That looks kind of bad," said Todd, leaning closer.

"Possibly," Sara agreed. "But really right now I think passing out from blood loss would be a blessing..."

"Why?"

Sara looked at the floor. "My mother." She shifted in her seat, clearly uncomfortable. "I, um, don't think she'd react well to me being a mutant." (2)

Todd frowned. "It's like that, huh?"

Sara nodded, avoiding his gaze.

"Look," said Todd. "This is gonna sound a little weird, but why don't you come over to my place tonight?"

Sara stared at him.

"I live in the Brotherhood Boarding House," Todd went on. "It's a place for people like us. Mutants, yo. I mean, it's a really crappy place, but it's somewhere, y'know? I can help you with the shedding and stuff."

"How do you know about it at all?"

"I have to go through it once a month, yo," said Todd, wincing. "My powers kind of suck that way. It's the only time of the month I can use soap without it affecting my skin." (3)

Sara nodded again. "All right," she said. "I think that's a good idea. As soon as we get out of here, I'll..." She paused, glancing at him. "I'll leave a message at my house, so my mother won't send out a SWAT team." (4)

"That works, yo."

AFTER SCHOOL...

Todd groaned when he saw that the jeep was gone. _Of course they wouldn't wait for me to get out,_ he thought, scowling.

He and Sara had both been awarded detention, him for swearing at a teacher (he'd made the mistake of not being out of earshot) and Sara for her imaginary fight.

"Looks like we'll havta walk," said Todd. "Do you mind?"

"Nope," said Sara. She settled her bag better on her shoulder.

"Want me to carry that, yo?"

A small smile came across Sara's face, as though at a private joke. "Go ahead and try," she replied, holding it out.

When Todd grabbed it, he nearly dropped it. "What do you keep in here, bricks!"

"No, but I've put just about everything else in there," she responded, taking it back. "So... which way do we go?"

AT THE BROTHERHOOD HOUSE...

Pietro and Fred were sprawled on the couch, watching TV. Todd put a finger to his lips and Sara nodded. He led her upstairs to his room, locking the door behind them. "Why the secrecy?" Sara asked.

Todd shrugged. "Eh, the other guys would let me have it for bringing another chick here," he explained.

Sara cocked her head. "So... you're a bit of a punching bag around here?"

"Damn straight," he muttered.

Sara nodded. "I understand," she replied. "Well-" She shook her head and stopped what she was going to say. "I do."

"I get that impression, yo." He bit his lip. "Um... can you take off your sweater?"

Sara stared at him.

"Just so I can see how things are going," he explained, and to his utter annoyance he was blushing again.

After a moment, she relaxed and slid it off. Todd ran his fingers across her arms. "Yeah, this is all gonna come off soon," he murmured, his embarrassment forgotten. Sara shivered a little. He didn't notice. "Like I said, showering helps. Our bathroom's down the hall. You wanna?"

Sara nodded, backing off.

"Keep your clothes dry, yo," he advised as she started down the hall. "I'm not sure if we have towels this week."

It was, of course, at this time, that Wanda happened to come out of her room, hearing voices. Todd didn't see her as he retreated into his room. Wanda glanced from the girl heading into the bathroom to Todd and back, a slow, large grin coming across her face. As soon as Todd was gone she let out a little squeal.

John (who had his door open as usual) leaned out of his room. "...the **hell**?" he muttered, seeing Wanda, who was practically skipping around the hall. "What's got you so excited, sheila?"

"FREEDOM!" Wanda cried, throwing out her arms.

"From what?"

"Toad!" Wanda replied, still jubilant. She turned to face him. "He's finally found himself a girl who actually seems to **like** him! No more following me around! No more creepy 'presents'! No more flirting!" She whooped again and burst out into a little dance.

"Nice happydance," John replied, not refraining from staring at all when she turned again and ducked back into his room.

Wanda strolled back into her room, humming.

(I SAID the chapters would get longer. Next time (short again, sadly): Sara's Ritual!)

(1) I'm going by the pic of Sara Nutter has up on her BBS somewhere; I haven't reread Misfits in a while.

(2) Sara's mother is a real dragon. She stopped caring about Sara after she lost a beauty pageant when she was six and Sara is SERIOUSLY messed up thanks to it. It's tres complicated.

(3) The reason Todd doesn't shower is because thanks to his powers, his skin is like a toad's, and toads are allergic to soap. The expected result for Todd would be something like a big, awful rash... kind of like the one I've had all summer, now that I think of it.

(4) Sara's family is quite rich; the staff is like her surrogate family, so the person she'd leave a message with would probably be the butler, but she's not mentioning him to avoid awkwardness.


	13. Sara's Ritual

Disclaimer: "What's that? Oh, naked Kitty- uh, sorry- but wait! A golden backscratcher!"

(An: Yeah... this is one of Sara's quirks that's so funny I just had to write a chapter about it.)

Sara's Ritual (I Told You Not to Go In There)

John was a light sleeper- the slightest noise tended to wake him up. So it was a natural occurence that when somebody started singing in the kitchen (it was right below his room) he snapped awake. He glanced over at the clock. Five AM. _Who in bloody HELL would be up this early!_ he wondered, dragging himself out of bed to accost the singer.

He stumbled downstairs and peered blearily into the kitchen.

"Good morning starshine," sang the girl. "The earth says hello  
"You twinkle above us  
"We twinkle below"

There were large patches of skin peeling away to reveal shimmering blue scales all over her body. This was when Pyro noticed she was also naked. He turned bright red and quietly shut the door. _Who the hell is that, anyway?_

AN HOUR LATER...

The girl still hadn't come out of the kitchen. She'd stopped singing, but somehow, Pyro doubted she was wearing anything.

Then Pietro came downstairs, yawning. "Move it, flame boy."

"You've been spending too much time with Tabitha."

"Damn straight."

"Now move," Pietro repeated.

"Ah... no. Trust me, mate, you don't wanna go in there."

Pietro frowned. "Of course I do. I need coffee." He rubbed his fingers together. "Cof-fee. Nectar of life."

"Somebody's already in there."

"So?"

"It's not a pretty sight, mate."

"Don't care." And without further preamble Pietro pushed past John and into the kitchen.

There was a shriek, the sound of something heavy being thrown, and a cry of "COMPORT YOURSELF, SIR!"

Pietro ran out, a red slap mark visible on his cheek.

"I told you not to go in there."

"Who **is** that madwoman, anyway? And why is she naked!"

"Why are you asking me questions I can't answer?" Pyro retorted.

"...Good point..." With that, Pietro dashed upstairs to a woman who was equally crazy but more friendly.

After a moment, a helmet-haired face peered out from the room. "Is he gone?" she asked.

"Yep," John said. "Just one question- who are you?"

"Sara Louise Adrien," she replied. "Uh... maybe I should get my clothes..."

"Go 'round the back, luv," said John, pointedly looking straight ahead. "I'll keep 'em away."

"Thanks," said Sara, ducking back inside.

LATER THAT MORNING...

After that morning's little mishap, Sara had been quick to explain to Todd and Pyro (she would've to Pietro, as well, but he was still hiding with Tabitha). "I know it's rather... odd," said Sara, shrugging. "But ever since I was little I've always liked to stand in the sunrise and let the light touch..." she glanced at Todd and turned red, "all of me."

"Hmm," John murmured. "Wanda was right."

"About what?" Todd and Sarah asked in unison.

John just smirked, grabbed some toast, and walked out.

Sara looked at Todd.

"Don't ask me," Todd replied. "I just live in the same house as the guy; I'm not pretending to understand him."

Sara nodded. "I see..."

(And that's that... short, but oh well. We aren't done with Sarah yet, mind. Next time: Depression kicks in...)


	14. Depression Kicks In

Disclaimer: "Ph33r my lack of beer!"

(An: Poor Kitty. She doesn't get much cheering up for a while. As for Kurt's random German... eh, don't ask. HOLY SHIT! 104 REVIEWS! ...-clears throat- Right. Needed to get that out of my system. Despite my bitchiness, I love you guys, I really do. The Rahmy-ness comes in... chapter 26 or 25. Sorry. I got my mad night outings messed up.)

Depression Kicks In (We're Out of Ice Cream)

AFTER SCHOOL, THAT SAME DAY...

Kitty was sitting at the kitchen table, head resting on her arms and generally looking miserable.

There was a bamf in the dining room. "Kitty kitty kittycat?" Kurt called, perching on a chair. "_Wo bist meine Katzchen_?" (1)

"I'm not in the mood, Kurt," Kitty replied.

Kurt bamfed into the kitchen, crouching on the table. "_Was ist das_?" he said, feigning surprise. He poked Kitty. "Do I really see a non-perky _Katzchen_?"

"Yes, you do," Kitty said, looking up and giving him a death glare. "And what's up with the German?"

"My parents called," Kurt explained, shrugging as he slid into the chair next to her. "I'm still thinking in my native tongue. So what's up with you?"

"I would've thought Rogue told you," Kitty responded, resting her head on the table again.

"Told me what?"

Kitty sniffled. "I broke up with Lance."

Kurt stared at her for a moment. "...You **did**?"

Kitty nodded.

Kurt touched her shoulder. Then he had a lightbulb moment and walked over to the fridge. He opened the freezer and peered inside. Disappointed, he sat back down next to Kitty.

"What was that about?" she asked, without looking up.

"We're out of ice cream," Kurt lamented. "I was hoping we might have some. But no."

Kitty stared at him.

"I was trying to find a way to cheer you up," Kurt explained, shrugging.

"Why ice cream?"

"Hey, it's kosher."

Kitty managed a small smile. "I'm fine, Kurt."

"I know, Kitty, I know," Kurt replied. "But it's my job as your best friend to at least attempt to cheer you up. I'll leave you alone." He hugged her for a second, then bamfed out.

Kitty sighed. Kurt was one of those people- always happy, even when he was sad. He had **the** relationship with Amanda. And he understood Kitty better than anyone else- except on Lance. Lance wasn't the type to be gotten over quickly- not after all the stuff had gone on between them.

(Meh. I don't like this chapter much. My inspiration just went "bleh" at the ending. Next time: The Inner Workings of a Cane Toad!)

(1) "Where is my Kitty?" Copied from "Plot What Plot?" by the 'Nutter because Babelfish wasn't getting the Kitty part.


	15. Mutant Psychology 101

Disclaimer: "What's the matter, Ringo? Is there a matter you'd like to take up... or down?"

(An: The daily updates aren't necessarily ending... but now... eh, school starts in three days and my schedule's packed tight, yo. They should still be fast... I just can't promise daily. And the only reason I didn't post yesterday was 'cause the 'net was out pretty much all day and I forgot. Man, with all the angst-ness I've been writing people will think I'm one of those "serious" writers... Sara sticks around and pops up for a while but the Sara/Toddness really does only get three chapters... the initial one, this one, and the next one... that's what I say and since I'm the author, it's law. So there.)

The Inner Workings of a Cane Toad (Mutant Psychology 101)

THAT NIGHT...

Todd sighed as he stretched out on the couch. Sara was up in his room, sleeping in his bed. Despite what most people seemed to think, he kept his room pretty clean. He was a bit of a neat freak in everything but clothing and skin. If he washed anything that he came in contact with too regularly, it irritated his skin, which was the only reason everything was so ratty and kind of slimy. Sara understood.

That was probably the thing that threw him the most- Sara **understood**. He explained about his powers, and she **listened**. She never once seemed disgusted or freaked- she just nodded and smiled.

John walked by, in his own world as usual. Two days ago Todd would've made faces at his back. He hadn't liked John when he'd first arrived- he was one of Magneto's stooges, no matter what he said, and it was obvious that Wanda like him better than Todd... or any of the other 'Hood members, except maybe Tabby. 

But now, the fact that Wanda liked John and hated him didn't seem to matter as much.

Then Wanda walked by, following John, as was to be expected. _Speak of the devil... or witch, yo,_ Todd thought. Wanda paused, and glanced at him. "You're sleeping down here?"

"Sara's usin' my bed, yo."

"Oh, right." Wanda nodded and started up the stairs, flicking her fingers at him in a wave. "Night, Todd."

**That** made Todd jerk up. "Wait! What'd you just call me?"

"Todd," said Wanda, glancing over her shoulder and giving him a "duh" look. "It's your name, ain't it?"

Todd nodded, speechless.

Wanda shook her head, muttered something, and headed up to her room.

Todd slumped back on the couch. _Shit, yo... has she_ ever_ called me that before?_ Todd tried, but he couldn't think of a single time. In fact, he couldn't think of a time any of the other Brotherhood members had called him Todd, either. This wasn't suprising, but it **was** rather depressing.

Unbidden, an image of Sara came into his head. She always called him Todd. In fact, it was usually "Todd, dear." She said that calling people she cared about "dear" was a knee-jerk habit.

The fact that somebody like Sara cared about somebody like him never failed to hit him like a ton of bricks.

Now that her skin was finally peeling off instead of hanging loosely on her body in flaps, she actually was rather pretty... and cripplingly shy.

Todd sighed and shook the image out of his head. He did **not** want to go there.

_It's Mutant Psychology 101, yo,_ Todd thought. _Give a Toad one real friend and he'll go too far._

Wanda had hated him from the start. Sara hadn't ever. _Tough choice, there._

(Whoo. Short. Next time: Utter Bliss!)


	16. Utter Bliss

Disclaimer: "Jesus is coming! Hide the porn!"

(An: Uh... just more making way for Jonda. This is how I do it without the OOC fights or clinginess that I tend to see in other, otherwise good fics... bleh. That annoys me. Shh. Don't tell anyone, but I like writing Todd.)

Utter Bliss (Good for Them!)

THE NEXT MORNING...

Todd wasn't quite sure how the kiss had happened. He was staying at the house with Sara to help her get the last of her skin off, rubbing at it because that tended to help. Then Sara had turned her head abruptly and he'd just kind of... kissed her, with no intent to or any real thought at all. It was just Sara! Right there! With her lips!

Sara, startled, broke off the kiss and Todd stumbled backwards, blushing and mentally beating himself up. "Uhm..." said Todd. _Great, great, you kiss who is now your best friend and your response is "uhm"._ "S-sorry..." _God, I sound like such an _idiot!

Sara stared at him, her brown eyes penetrating, confused, and (could it be?) maybe a little hopeful. "Why did you do that?" she asked quietly, after a moment.

Todd looked at the floor, running a hand through his hair. "I... I dunno, yo... I mean... you were there and so was I and..." He shrugged, feeling extremely uncomfortable.

Sara stood up and walked over to him, taking his face in her hands and making him meet her eyes. "Why did you do that?" she repeated.

"'Cause... cause I like you a lot, yo," Todd whispered.

"Well, all right then," Sara responded, also in a whisper.

Todd kissed her again, and this time he didn't hold back.

LATER THAT DAY...

The rest of the Brotherhood was sitting in the kitchen. Everyone but John and Wanda were staring incredulously at the snuggling couple on the couch.

"I can't believe it," said Pietro, for maybe the fifth time that day. "Are they really in there?" he asked Tabitha.

"For the fifth and last time, yes," Tabby said, backhanding him.

Lance, meanwhile, was staring at them with a kind of envy.

"Missing your Kitty?" Tabby asked, a downright **evil** smirk on her face.

Lance glared at her, and the room started to shake. Then Tabby backhanded **him**, and the tremors stopped. "Go sulk somewhere else, Rocky."

Lance glared at her for a moment more, then stalked off.

"He's so pathetic," Pietro muttered, facepalming.

"Says you," Tabby responded, with a snort.

"I think it's sweet," said Wanda, quite abruptly.

Everyone (except John) turned to stare at her. "What?"

"No outbursts, no deadly electronics (not that we haven't already got those), no explosions?" Pietro asked. "Dear sister, are you sick?"

"Piss off, Pietro," Wanda replied, flipping him the bird.

"Gah! My virgin eyes!" Pietro cried, covering them. (1)

"No part of you is a virgin," Tabby replied, cracking her gum. "And I should know."

"Three words, Tabby: Too. Much. Information!" Wanda covered her ears and shook her head.

"Why do you think it's sweet? You don't think anything's sweet. Cuddly kittens make you go 'ew.' Seriously, are you sick?" Pietro asked her.

Wanda mouthed 'cuddly kittens?' and Pietro glared at her. "What, you guys don't think I actually **liked** all the attention from Todd? I HeX-bolted him all the time for a **reason**, you know. I don't like guys that are upfront like that. He's ok as a friend but definitely not that way. If Todd's found someone who likes being treated that way and called 'cuddlebumps' then good for them, I say!" With that, Wanda headed upstairs. (2)

"I think we should check the news for updates on the alien invasions," Pietro said, after he was sure she was out of earshot.

Tabby stared at him, one eyebrow raised. "**Why**?"

"Because obviously my sister's been abducted by body snatchers!"

Tabby backhanded him again and then headed upstairs (to her and Wanda's room for once).

"I never thought I'd see anything weirder than **you** getting a girlfriend," said Pietro to the last remaining Brotherhood member in the room (Fred), "but that happens to be it." Then he went upstairs after Tabby.

Fred just sighed, rolled his eyes, and then went to get ready for his date. (3)

(Ok, so that was short too... but I hope it made up for it by actually getting the humor back into the story.)

(1) There's this really annoying, obnoxious guy on my bus that I can't stand for the life of me but whenever his sister swears at him or flips him off he yells "Oh my virgin ears/eyes!" This, much to my chagrin, never fails to make me giggle.

(2) Believe it or not, people who write otherwise excellent fics seem to think that Wanda (when Todd finds someone else) will react hysterically by breaking things and yelling at Todd for "abandoning her" or some such. As if.

(3) Eh... Freddy's girlfriend will probably never get a name. I just think it's a fun running joke.


	17. Another Welcome

Disclaimer: "That was lovely, Jeremy." "We've lost the sub for good." "Or for bad." "Or for worse."

(An: This chapter's just finishing up Sara's storyline. You see, I may not have a whole interlocking plot, but I have storylines! So ha!)

Somewhere to Feel Safe (We Didn't Get Cake)

THE NEXT DAY...

"Todd, darling," said Sara. "I really should go home now... or something. I mean, my skin's all shed and everything seems to be working all right..." That was, of course, when Todd cleared his throat. "Hmm?"

Todd pointed at her arm, which was changing to match the couch. Sara gasped and jumped up. Her arm returned to its usual blue form, but Sara didn't seem any more calm. "I guess that must be your actual power, yo," said Todd. "Like a chameleon." Sara nodded. She blinked rapidly, her expression slowly changing to serenity.

She raised her arm and peered at it curiously, gently picking at one of her scales. "Hmm..." she murmured. Todd, meanwhile, was biting his lip and frowning. She glanced at him. "What?"

"I was just thinking, yo," said Todd. "The Brotherhood... well, we ain't really 'teachers', y'know?"

Sara blinked.

"It's just- all of us pretty much knew how to use our powers before we got here, 'cept Wanda, and all she need to do was learn to control her anger," said Todd, tilting his head back and staring at the ceiling.

"What are you suggesting?" Sara asked.

"I think you should go to the X-men, yo," said Todd. "I mean, we don't really get along well, but it's true- they're a lot better at the whole 'teaching' gig than us."

"So... you're saying I should go stay with them?"

"Well, yeah... I mean, it's not like you really wanna go home, right?"

Sara stared at him for a moment, then shook her head.

"Ok." He drummed his fingers on the couch. "I mean, it's not like I couldn't come visit you, and stuff, once you got settled... I think you'd like it there... lot more braniacs and stuff."

Sara leaned over and kissed his cheek. "You're sweet when you're self-deprecating."

"See, one of the X-men would probably understand what that meant..."

Sara laughed.

A FEW DAYS LATER... (1)

Sara crossed her legs on her bed. She didn't know anyone here and she was lonely. She did like it here- everyone had done their best to be friendly... it was just... too new.

She sighed and went downstairs. As they said, there was no time like the present, and making friends took a while.

She was surprised when she got down there to discover that the lights were off in the common room. This was, as far as she knew, a very rare event. She reached to turn them on.

When she flipped the switch, she was almost divebombed by a "slightly" hyped up Kurt. "Surprise!" Kurt cried. "And the surprise is that Kitty didn't make the cake!"

Sara stared at him for a moment, and then collapsed in a fit of uncontrollable giggles.

"We wanted to make you feel more welcome," Jean explained. "But Kurt went a little crazy with the sugar."

When Sara was sure she could speak, she stood. A large smile unfolded on her face. It only got wider when Todd appeared behind her, wrapping an arm around her waist.

Remy, meanwhile, was standing in the background somewhat, with Piotr and Illyana. She tugged on her older brother's arm and said something. "Illyana is commenting on the fact that we didn't get cake," he relayed to Remy, who seemed about as interested in the little party as would a panther.

"Well, _mon ami_," said Remy, "tell her that we aren't that well-liked. And we probably never will be."

Piotr noticed he was looking at Rogue as he said that. He didn't say anything about it, though, just sighed and went to get some cake for his sister.

(What were you expecting, my dear readers? Length? Surely you have me confused with someone who doesn't procrastinate. And I know, it was an age before I got this up. I'm not promising anything for the update schedule, either. My other projects are shorter than this, and thus more interesting. However, there should be more updates again, since it was just this one chapter that had me annoyed.)

(1) If you want some idea of what went on in those few days, for the love of GOD go read "Misfits!" Right now! Go!


	18. Cheering Up Kitty

Disclaimer: "You know what the homeless need? A midget!" "...Why would the homeless need a midget?" "Dude, SHUT UP!"

(An: And here comes the first random night outing. And more weird Kiotrness. And I would like to say, for the record: I like Amara. She's a very cool character, but, believe it or not (this is like the Tonda thing I mentioned), some people bring her off as a complete bitch. She can pull that off, no doubt, but Amara's a good character at heart, I think. So there.)

Cheering Up Kitty (Two Good Uses for Toilet Paper)

THE NEXT DAY...

Amara was rather surprised to find her best friend and former roomate Tabitha Smith sitting on her balcony when she got back from school. "Hey, 'Mara," said Tabby, as calm as ever.

Amara grinned, sitting on her bed. "So you decided to come visit, huh?"

"Yeah, I got a little bored of making out with my **super-hot boyfriend**." Tabitha put a heavy stress on that, and wasn't disappointed by her friend's reaction.

"So you and Pietro finally hooked up?" When Tabby nodded, Amara all but squealed (a real squeal would have been beneath her). "Details, details!"

After quite a bit of squealy girl talk, Tabitha asked, "So how have things been with you?"

"Boring," said Amara immediately. "Sam's in a funk since Rahne left, Bobby's too busy trying to wedge his way into the X-men proper to pay attention to anything else, Ray is **so** uncultured, and Rob's just... Rob."

"Yep," Tabby agreed. "What about Rogue and Kitty?"

"Rogue's in a worse-than-usual bad mood all the time," said Amara. "She had some big stupid fight with Remy. And so is Kitty. She dumped Lance a few days ago, so she's no fun."

"So that's why Lancey-poo didn't attempt to maul me when I took his Jeep before..." Tabby tapped her lips with a finger. "Hmm... You know what we should do? Girl's night. Mall crawl, stupid games, sugar, makeovers, all that good shit. Perfect thing to cheer up Kitty-cat and Rogue."

Amara grinned. "Tabitha, that's great! Scott and Jean have a session with the junior guys and Kurt's out snogging Amanda or something! We'll have the house practically to ourselves!"

"Just let me go get Wanda." At Amara's raised eyebrow, Tabby added, "Don't worry, she's kickass. Trust me." She flipped over the balcony and ran off.

ABOUT TWENTY MINUTES LATER...

After a little bit of cajoling, the professor was convinced to let Tabby and Wanda stay over. "Just try not to wreck anything too important, all right?"

Amara and Tabby nodded, overly innocent, and exchanged squealy grins as they left.

Amara rapped on Kitty and Rogue's door. The latter answered, giving the group a skeptical look. "What do you guys want?"

"We're having a little party, since most of the guys are in the DR," said Amara. "We were wondering if you wanted to come hang with us."

Rogue raised her eyebrows, glancing at Wanda.

"We can sit in the corner and blast something gothy while mocking them," Wanda suggested.

Rogue snorted. She glanced back at Kitty, who was eyeing them curiously. "C'mon, Kit," said Rogue. "Let's go be vapid."

A WHILE AFTER THAT...

"Ok," said Tabitha. "Cliched girly sleepover checklist: we've painted our toenails, mocked the Backstreet Boys, watched _The New Guy..._" She stretched, frowning. After a moment, a smirk spread over her face. (1)

Amara and Kitty both demanded, "What?" while Rogue and Wanda managed to look interested in a bored, apathetic way.

"Let's go prank the guys," said Tabby.

"There's only two of them that aren't at the session, though," said Kitty. "Remy and... oh."

Tabitha and Amara were now wearing identically evil smirks.

"Oh, no," said Kitty. "We can't prank Piotr! He's too nice!"

"And susceptible to blackmail slash not likely to take revenge," Tabby agreed.

Kitty facepalmed as Rogue turned off the Manson. "I heard 'prank' and 'Piotr.'" (2)

"Here's the idea," said Tabby. "There's three good uses for toilet paper: wiping your ass, wiping your nose... and sticking people to walls."

FIFTEEN MINUTES LATER...

The girls sauntered down a hallway. Before they got to Remy and Piotr's room, though, they encountered the former.

"May I assume," said Remy, "that you _femmes_ are out to cause trouble?"

"What would make you think that?" Tabby replied.

"I dunno... it's just that what appears to be TWENTY ROLLS of really soggy toilet paper is enough to make anyone suspicious."

"You may assume," said Wanda, "that if you don't leave in the next five seconds this will be aimed at you."

"No wonder John likes you."

A few menacing-looking blue sparks flickered around Wanda's hands.

Remy got the hint and booked.

"I still don't get how this works," said Rogue, once Remy was truly and firmly gone.

"It's like paper-mache," Tabby explained. "Once this stuff dries, it's as hard as rock. 'Mara's just speeding up the process a bit. Kitty, knock."

"Why me?" she squeaked.

"Cause A, you're not carrying anything and B, he likes you."

Kitty frowned and knocked on the door. When Piotr answered, she instantly said, "Before you say anything, this was _so_ not my idea!"

Piotr didn't have the time to process the implications of that statement. The toilet paper had splatted, hardened, and trapped him by then, and the girls were already long gone by the time he did.

(Whee. Longer chapter. Hopefully, the next will be as well.)

(1) Things every respectable sleepover should have.

(2) I like Marilyn Manson. I do. He's just extremely creepy. And probably the devil.


	19. You Do Like Her

Disclaimer: "You always hurt The ones you love The ones you shouldn't hurt at all"

(An: "A Fan," if you're referring to "Hyperborean Wanderer", "Interestellar Road Trip," or the third X-band, they're all finite. Sorry. Morph'll pop up in a fanfic of mine again, though, don't worry... eventually, lol. As for why this took me so long... I was boycotting fanfiction and then redoing my outline. So sue me. I know I promised madness... but I've been unable to do madness for a while now, so ner. Anyway, this came before the madness chapter. I just forgot about it. And you don't want filler, you want fluff! This shall be short. But I'm posting it with another one, so ner.)

You Do Like Her, Then (Devilspawn!)

When Remy came into the room (after he had assured himself that the girls were well and truly gone) he wasn't surprised to find Piotr trussed to the wall by about thirty rolls of damp toilet paper with duct tape over his mouth.

Upon sighting Gambit, Piotr immediately redoubled his wiggling, glaring.

"Now now, Petey, if you want me to let you down, that's hardly the way to go about it..."

Piotr mumbled something and Remy would have bet his lucky trenchcoat that it wasn't nice.

"Still not the way to do it, I'm afraid..."

Piotr's eyebrows went up in a way that suggested "Please?" far more than his mutterings could.

"Aw, you know I can't resist the puppy eyes, Petey..." But Remy remained leaning against the doorway, inspecting his nails.

"Mmmph mmmph mmph _mmmph_," Piotr growled. Remy was pretty sure that wasn't an invitation to tea.

"Oh, all right, you've convinced me." Remy strolled over and, with great ceremony, ripped off the tape.

"OWWWW!"

"Suck it up, _mon ami_."

"Screw you." (1)

Remy gasped in fake amazement. "Could it be? Could my shy Russian friend really have uttered profanity?"

"Screw you is hardly profanity, and I'd like to see _you_ get toilet-papered to a wall and maintain a proper frame of mind!"

"...Good point."

"Now are you going to get me down or what?"

"Do you know where my camera is?"

"Even if I did, I wouldn't tell you!"

"Oh, well... I _do_ have Kitty to back me up on this, after all."

Piotr gagged. "Please don't mention her."

"Who, _Chaton_?" (2)

"_Da_," said Piotr, in the tone others might say "duh".

"Why not? You like her, don't you?" Remy asked, as he took out a pocketknife and began cutting through Piotr's toiletry cocoon.

"She and her friends are _devilspawn_!"

Remy paused, looking almost sentimental. He wiped away an imaginary tear. "Aw, you _do_ like her... geek love. It's so cute."

"No, John's the geek... I'm the shy one, remember?"

Remy nodded. He gave the wall a good hard kick and stepped back. There was a loud crack and Piotr fell on the floor with an undignified thump.

"And you're the jerk," Piotr said. His voice wasn't as scathing as it could have been because for one thing, it was him saying it, after all, and, for another, it was kind of muffled by the floorboards.

"And it's a beautiful, beautiful thing."

"I think that I would flip you off right now... but my arms are asleep."

"Like you have the balls."

"You're right. I think I'll just step on you as soon as I can move."

Remy rolled his eyes. "When you've recovered your mobility, you can come meet me in the park. John and I are gonna go egg some cars or something."

"I'd really rather not."

Remy shrugged. "Suit yourself, _mon ami_. And clean this crap up."

"You're gonna wake up dead tomorrow..."

Remy chose not to dignify this with a response. He twiddled his fingers at the fallen Colossus and walked out.

"I hate him so much sometimes."

(Toldja I have an odd take on Piotr... Next up, John's Rant!)

(1) It is in my experience that quiet, shy people are actually quite violent around people they trust. Not being quite as witty as his Cajun friend, I think he would probably resort to threats when annoyed. Or just shoving his friends in garbage cans. Whichever comes first.

(2) For the French-impaired, that means "kitten" but can be translated as "kitty". So ner.


	20. John's Rant

Disclaimer: "Any comments?" "Nothing printable."

(An: Here we get to the part where things start going in a positive direction for the most popular couple featured here...)

John's Rant (I'm Evil!)

John and Remy were in the park. After successfully egging every Starbucks in town (which was quite an acheivement), they were trying to make their way across. It would have been a lot easier to be inconspicuous if John hadn't kept running around, popping up from behind bushes and trees while humming the theme from _Mission: Impossible_.

"John, it ain't working."

"You can't see me!" John cried, throwing himself against a tree. "I'm _invisible_." (1)

"Sorry, _mon ami_."

"Shhh... someone's coming."

"Really?"

John nodded, putting a finger to his lips.

When Remy saw who was coming, he swore. Loudly. And then he jumped into the bushes.

"Good idea!" John joined him. "What's the matter, mate? Bush therapy is how I usually handle things."

"Shh!" Remy hissed. "I don't want _her_ to see me."

"Who... Rogue?"

Remy clapped a hand over John's mouth. "That should go without saying."

"But don't you even want to hit on her?"

Remy's eyes hardened and he looked away. "She's made it very clear she doesn't want me in her life."

"What happened?"

Remy sighed. "We fought... big, explosive, firecracker-type... I'm not even sure what I did..."

"Did you flirt with her?"

"No! ...well, yes, I have been, but not when she fought with me! You remember that whole issue down in Louisiana?"

"Didn't you say you two bonded over that?"

"Well, yeah, that's what I thought, anyway. And then, when I actually move into the mansion, she keeps ignoring me, right? So, a couple of days ago, I called her out on it, and she got really, really mad. I'm still not sure what I did... except she said something." Remy trailed off at that point, studying the ground and frowning.

"What?"

Remy glanced at him. "I'm not even sure if she said it- she shoved me in the pond right after, and I might be reading too much into it..."

John poked him. "What did she _say_?"

"'Dammit, I want to hate you! It's easier that way,'" Remy said, in a surprisingly good Mississippi accent. "Then she shoved me in the pond." He paused a moment, biting his lip, before adding, "See, the whole thing is that it suggests she likes me, you know?"

"And what would you do if she did?"

Remy slapped him upside the head. "None of your damn business."

"Hmm..."

"John, no. You've got that 'friend duty' look in your eye. I hate your friend duties, and you know it!"

John peered over the bush, ignoring him. "Well, I'm gonna go talk to Wanda... keep the bush warm!"

"Hey, no-" Remy grabbed at the Aussie, but it was too late; John jumped out of the bush.

The girls paused. Having a redhaired pyromaniac pop out of nowhere isn't an everyday occurence.

"Oh, hey, John," said Wanda.

"Hey, sheila," John replied, nodding. He looked around the group. "Rogue, Tabby... er, other sheilas..."

Wanda rolled her eyes, whispering to Rogue, "I don't know why I hang around with him, really."

"I heard that, Wanda. You're gonna pay for it."

"With what?" Tabitha asked, crossing her arms and looking intrigued.

"If that's what your mind first turns to, Boom Boom, I ain't even gonna respond. You're not the one whom I have a bone to pick with, anyway." He walked over by Rogue and Wanda, leaning on the latter. She pushed him off in disgust, but he ignored this. "_You_," he said, pointing at Rogue, "are my quarry."

There was a pause as everyone looked at Remy's bush, which had just uttered a muffled curse.

Rogue's eyebrows went up, but she didn't ask. "What do you want, Pyro?" Well, not about the bush, at least.

"I heard about your little incident with Remy."

Another pause as the bush cursed louder.

"Anyway, I'd like to say that, from what I heard, it was completely unjustified- you were the one being rude.Am I right?"

"He's right," said Kitty, who had, of course, been listening.

"I _was_ justified," Rogue snarled. "He's a pompous, arrogant, flirtatious jerk who has no business in my life!"

"But did you have a reason that day?"

Rogue's eyes flicked to the ground." ...No..."

"Ah! And there's the rub! Like I said, you were the rude one. You wouldn't talk to him, and then you shoved him in a pond when he confronted you."

"But-"

"Did you ever once think to _tell_ him it annoys you when he flirts?"

"I _have_. Several times. At length."

"But still!Remy has been trying to _befriend_ you. But you're a pretty girl-" Wanda smacked him. "What the hell was that for?"

Wanda just stuck her nose in the air and looked away.

"Eh, whatever... anyway, and the only way Remy's tiny reptilian brain knows to deal with pretty girls is flirting! He's an idiot like that."

There was a third pause as the bush yelled something that sounded like "Hey!"

John continued to ignore the puzzling bush. "Remy is the type of thick boy that needs things to be spelled out to him several times when it comes to pretty girls. He's not trying to be a jerk to you, Rogue, he honestly _likes_ you."

"Yeah, sure, that explains why he kidnapped me."

Now John's eyebrows went up. "That is an empty retort and you know it. As I understand it, you two were civil to each other on that trip- for the most part- and you actually parted on good terms. _And_ you didn't see him tear his hair out in indecision about whether to just ask you or get your help that way."

Rogue held up a finger. A second later, the finger went down. "Damn you!"

"So will you apologize?" Rogue opened her mouth. "Or at _least_ make him comfortable around you again? _I'm_ the one who's going to have to listen to his relationship problems, you know. Please, think of Baxter!" He flicked out his lighter and a little fire-puppy appeared in his hands. It cocked its head and gave Rogue the biggest anime sad-eyes she'd ever seen. "Baxter doesn't like it when Remy whines." (2)

"Oh, all _right_," Rogue muttered. "I'll apologize."

"Bada bing, bada boom, mark that down, Wanda!"

"Where?" the mentioned witch asked.

John paused in his triumphant gesture. "It doesn't matter, just make a mental note."

"Right."

John put his arm on Wanda's shoulder again as Rogue walked over by Amara and Tabitha, making sure each step showed how disgusted she was. Wanda immediately shook him off, but John took no notice. "I'm glad that's over. Now I can go back to being evil."

Wanda looked at him. When she saw he really was serious, her lips twitched.

"What? I'm evil, dammit! Really! Why doesn't anyone ever believe me?"

"Because you make fire-puppies named Baxter, you lecture other people for the sake of your friends... and you're just so damn cute, John!" She twiddled her fingers at him. "We have girly stuff to do. Ta!"

John blinked, dazed, as the resident of the bush finally joined him.

"I hate you."

John apparently didn't hear Remy, because his response was a mumbled, "She thinks I'm cute?"

(Mwahah. Am I not ingenius? Oh, whatever. Anyway, next time (which should be out soon): Cinnamon Rolls!)

(1) I don't know if that's a line from a movie or something. It's a move my friend did at one of my parties- I still think it's hilarious.

(2) Baxter the fire-puppy is from an interfic on the Nutboard known as "Welcome to the Rest of the Year." Unfortunately, it seems to be good and dead. Oh, well...


	21. Cinnamon Rolls

Disclaimer: "Relax, Dad, we've still got marshmallows." "Oh, sugary cubes of goodness, you save the day yet again!"

(An: Short Kiotr chapter. Funfun.)

Cinnamon Rolls (Are We Good?)

The next morning, Kitty awoke to the smell of something truly tantalizing: cinnamon rolls. They had probably been made by Storm, as a treat for the girls. There would probably be one or two extra...

Kitty sat up, nibbling the end of her ponytail as she thought. She swung her legs over the side of the bed. _I dunno, I really want things to work out with him and me... and everyone always says the way to a guy's heart is through his stomach... man, I'm desperate._ She shook her head at her own foolishness, picking her way over the other girls.

Creeping down the hallway (it was about seven-thirty in the morning, and in mansion mode that was way too early on a Saturday), she phased into Remy and Piotr's room, hoping neither of them slept in the nude or something. She made her way to Piotr's bed. Kitty just stood there for a minute. He really was very handsome, and so nice... it wasn't often you got those in combination. She reached over and tapped him on the shoulder.

"No, John, I will not eat the pudding," Piotr mumbled, rolling over.

"Wake up," Kitty whispered, prodding him again.

Piotr turned his head, frowning at her underneath sleepy blue eyes. "What do you want, Katya?"

"Two words: cinnamon rolls. You want one, come with me."

He blinked, processing this, and then gestured at her.

"What?"

"Can I get dressed, please?"

Kitty went red. "Oh, right, sorry!" She phased back through the wall..

In the opposite bed, Remy chuckled. "You shut up," Piotr muttered, pulling on his pants.

ABOUT FIVE MINUTES LATER...

"There they are," Kitty sighed, peering around the kitchen door at the plate of pastry goodness. "Now, see, if I hadn't woken you up, you wouldn't get any."

"It is too early, Kitty," Piotr replied, awake enough to use her proper name.

Kitty stuck her tongue out at him, grabbing a cinnamon roll for herself and handing him one. She picked off a little bit and licked the icing off her fingers, watching him with lowered eyes. "So... um... what happened before _so_ wasn't my idea, you know that, right?"

Piotr's eyebrows went up. He glanced at her and his lips twitched. "_Da_..."

"So... are we good?"

Piotr smiled at her and Kitty resisted the urge to sigh blissfully. "Yes. I believe so."

_Well, Tabby, it worked. I'm certainly cheered up now..._ (1)

(Short, I told you. Next time: Save Me!)

(1) See three chapters back, oh so close yet oh so long ago. I.E., chapter nineteen.


	22. Save Me

Disclaimer: "Will they like him, or will they laugh at him and call him Betty?"

(An: The HTML coding in the last chapter has been fixed, FYI. Thanks to Original Horror for pointing that out- I keep forgetting to put these up on EE first. And here is the chapter most of you have probably all been waiting for... the Romy makeup!)

Save Me (Guess I Deserve That)

After the party had disbanded and Tabby and Wanda had gone home, Rogue could no longer deny how guilty she felt. John's rant had hit home. At the very least, she could give Remy a chance to make her hate him for a real reason. And it wouldn't be like she was actually telling Remy why she'd avoided him in the first place. She'd never told Scott, and now they were friends.

She was mulling this all over in her head when she passed a closet and heard music drifting down from it. She peered inside. The trapdoor to the roof was open, and someone was sitting up there, playing the guitar. (1)

"I had a bad day  
Don't talk to me  
I'm gonna ride this out  
My little black heart  
Breaks apart  
With your big mouth  
And I'm sick  
Of my sickness  
Don't touch me  
You'll get this  
I'm useless, lazy, perverted  
And you hate me  
You can't save me  
You can't change me  
Well I'm waiting for my wakeup call" (2)

Rogue recognized the voice. She stood at the foot of the ladder up, biting her lip. _Oh, screw it._ She climbed onto the roof.

As she'd thought, Remy was sitting there, his eyes closed as he sang and his legs dangling over the side of the roof. She crept over and sat behind him, as quietly as she could, but his fingers stilled on the second chorus. "What do _you_ want?"

Rogue winced at the harsh note to his voice. "Guess I deserve that," she mumbled, moving so she was next to him.

"_Oui_." Again, Rogue was amazed how rude he could make pleasantries sound.

Rogue swallowed, unsure how to continue. _Oh, for the love of GOD, woman, just apologize!_ She took a deep breath. "Remy, I'm sorry for the way I've been treating you. I was wrong, ok?"

Remy didn't look at her, seemingly tuning his guitar. "Took you a while, Rogue."

She flinched again; she hadn't noticed how used she'd gotten to "_chere_". "Yeah, well," and she maintained her toughness in her voice if not her body, "I think we're both just stupid."

A corner of Remy's mouth curled in a not-quite-smile. "It's amazing, how you can insult me even when you're trying to be nice."

"This would be easier if you weren't actively fighting me, you know."

"_Oui_, well, we wouldn't even be having this discussion if you hadn't done the same to me." Now it was reversed; his tone was light but his words were rude. Unfortunately, he had a point.

"I said I was sorry, swa- _Remy_." A repetition still wasn't what he seemed to want to hear; he kept his face turned away. "Can we just... forget it all?"

"It's a bit late for that," Remy replied, and, for the first time, his voice acquired a bitter edge.

"Yeah, well, I'm saying we do it now. Why don't we just start all over from the meeting? I won't try and zap you and you won't try to blow me up." She stuck out her hand. "I'm Rogue."

_Finally_ Remy took his eyes from his guitar and looked her full in the face. He studied her for a moment and then smiled. It made Rogue remember why she'd fought with him in the firstplace._No! Bad brain! We're staying off that track!_He shook her hand. "Remy."

A silence settled between them after that; neither of them were sure how to proceed. "Um... you have a nice guitar."

Remy nodded, stroking the wood. "This is the first thing I bought when I got to this city. Had to leave mine behind."

Rogue thought of her own guitar, stashed safelynext to her bed.The idea of leaving it behind if she went anywhere was completely alien. "Why?"

Remy's face darkened slightly. "Eh, I had to leave New Orleans in a hurry... a guitar ain't that convenient when you're on the run. I miss my old one, though." He looked down at the guitar in his lap and added, "_Mais elle est belle aussi._" (3)

Rogue resisted the urge to snort. He spoke with the tone of a man hurriedly assuring his girlfriend that yes, she _is_ prettier than the chick who just walked by.

"What? Guitars get temperamental if you insult them!"

Now Rogue _did_ laugh, leaning back and tilting her face to the sky.

"It's true!"

"That's what's funny. I know." She rolled her eyes. "I'll be in touch, swamp rat." She climbed down the ladder, still smiling.

(Short, but it's probably what half of you are reading this story for. Making music an important part of their relationship is probably cliched, but I wouldn't know. I don't read too much Romy anymore. Next time: The Return of Jubes and Wolfy!)

(1) I don't know if Remy can play the guitar or not. It's personal fanfic continuity. But I do know he can sing. So ner.

(2) "Save Me" by Unwritten Law. GOD, I love this song. I miss it. You never see the video anymore.

(3) But you are pretty too. I hate being in French I. I wanted to put "She was pretty" without running it through Babelfish, but we haven't been taught how to say that yet. Ugh.


	23. The Return of Jubes and Wolfy

Disclaimer: "You know, I didn't know it was possible to glomp someone in real life." "Glomp?" "And to do so without knowing what it was, either."

(An: Ok, so here it FINALLY is, the chapter where our favorite New Mutant girls reappear! The Rahm is soon, I promise.)

The Return of Jubes and Wolfy (My Brain is Like a Sieve)

THE NEXT DAY...

Two girls stood at the gate of mutant manor, exchanging excited looks. They were the kind of looks old friends got when they were going to do something a little crazy but utterly fun. The one who pressed the intercom button was Asian, with spiky black hair. Pink sunglasses covered her eyes and she was wearing a yellow trenchcoat. Her friend had red hair worn loose and windswept, since she had arrived on a motorcycle. (1)

"Hello, Xavier's mansion," said a bored voice from over the intercom. "We don't like reporters or salespeople. Can I help you?"

"Open the gates, Bobby," said the Asian girl, pushing her sunglasses into her hair.

There was a pause, and then, "Jubes?"

"And me too," said the second girl, shoving her friend aside.

There was a clatter, as though of someone jumping out of a chair and the gates swung open.

The girls grinned at each other and started for the door. However, the Asian girl was waylayed about halfway there by a flying blue streak. "Ack!"

"You'rebackyou'rebackYOUREBACK!" the blue streak cried. Bobby sat up, with a nod at the second girl. "Hey Rahne. Long time no see."

Rahne rolled her eyes and went into the mansion.

Jubilation Lee shoved him off. "Not that I didn't miss my DBGs," she said, tweaking his nose.

"...What now?"

Jubilee followed Rahne, heading inside. "DBGs," she repeated. "Daily Bobby Glomps."

"Glad to oblige, Jubesy."

"What have I told you about calling me Jubesy?"

"Absolutely nothing?"

"Oh, that's right. I'd forgotten your head was as empty as the breadbox after a sleepover."

"My brain is like a sieeeve, sometimes it's easier to forgeeet..." He slung an arm around her shoulders. "So. Why didn't you tell me you were coming back?" (2)

"I wanted to surprise you. That confused expression you get is cute enough to make up for most of your stupidity."

Bobby pulled a face at her. "But if you had told me, we could party!"

"Who says we can't party?"

"...Good point."

ABOUT TWO HOURS LATER...

"Again, _mon ami_," said Remy to Piotr, "new arrivals get cake. Why didn't we get cake?"

Piotr just rolled his eyes.

"They aren't new arrivals," Rogue replied. "They used to live here... I'm not sure if they'll take too kindly to you two, since your whole Acolyte Day of Reckoning thingy is why they had to leave in the first place. _And_ both of them had Love Interests." She nodded at where Jubilee was sitting on Bobby and where Rahne and Sam were talking.

Remy opened his mouth. Then he paused. "On second thought, I won't say anything."

"That's a good boy."

Kitty came over, handing Piotr a soda. "Why are you guys standing over here? In case you haven't noticed, two of our own have returned to the fold."

"Because it's all a bunch of squirts partying?" Rogue suggested.

"But it's still fun!"

"No, thank you. I'm still over my 'fun' quotient from our last little sleepover-thingy." The scorn she could muster while still maintaining a civil tone was amazing.

"I find myself a little afraid of your idea of fun, Kitty," Piotr replied.

Kitty looked at Remy as would a dog hoping for a treat. Remy held up his hands. "Don't look at me, _chaton_. I don't hang with teenage girls unless I'm getting paid. Lawsuits, you know."

"Why am I not suprised you're a man-whore?" Rogue drawled.

"I'm not a man-whore. I just know what I'm good at."

"Why do I hang out with him?" Piotr asked of the ceiling.

"Good question," said Kitty. "Well, at least _I_ know how to party. You guys are just sad."

"The same to you," Rogue replied.

Kitty stuck her tongue out at Rogue and bounced back into the dancing throng.

"So how are you two friends again?" Remy asked.

"Very carefully."

(Two short chapters, I know, but hopefully the next one will be longer. Or at least better. Next time: Girl's (and Piotr's) Night Out!)

(1) Comic Jubes and Wolfy. It's that simple.

(2) "My Brain is Like a Sieve" by Thomas Dolby. One of those Jokes I Got From the InterNutter.


	24. Girls' and Piotr's Night Out

Disclaimer: "Wild nights are my glory."

(An: Whee. Madness. In a timely fashion, no less. Following my logic, this chapter takes place on a Sunday. Got it?)

Girls' (And Piotr's) Night Out (Mister Stare at the Girl Instead of the Screen)

LATER THAT DAY...

"Hey, Piotr..."

"Gah!" Piotr nearly fell out of bed. He quickly scuffled to cover what he'd been drawing. "Must you insist on doing that?"

Kitty stuck her tongue out at him. This was kind of disconcerting, since her head was the only thing through the wall. "You've been here, what, a month? You should be used to me by now."

Rahne and Jubilee entered the room, taking a more conventional means than Kitty, who stepped through the wall beside them.

_Why do I suddenly get a bad feeling?_ Piotr wondered. It was either because all three girls were converging on him or because Remy had decided out was better and had just ran through the balcony doors. When Remy ditched a scene, things were obviously pretty bad... and come on. Girls were kind of scary. He looked them over, trying to discern what they wanted. "Uh..."

"Wannacomeseeamoviewithus?" Kitty asked. She wasn't looking at him and seemed nervous. Something odd was going on indeed.

"Er..."

"Kitty, I don't think he speaks Hyper Valley Girl," Rahne said.

"My girl's gone and picked up an attitude," Jubilee sighed, wiping away an imaginary tear. "They grow up so fast!"

"Er..." said Piotr. Again. _I need to work on that._

"Sorry," said Kitty, clearing her throat. "Do you want to see a movie with us?"

Piotr blinked. He'd learned not to trust mansion girls when they traveled in packs. "Why?"

"Well, you know, these guys just came back and I wanted to hang with them... and Logan won't let us go out without a chaperone..."

"And you want _me_ to do it?"

"Yeah!"

"_Why_?"

"Because she thinks you're-" Jubilee began. Kitty quickly slapped a hand over her mouth.

"Don't pay any attention to Jubes. She's insane."

Jubilee made a muffled protest and Kitty not-so-subtly stepped on her foot.

"Well, anyway... you're nineteen and you're cool..."

"And you're easily blackmailed," Rahne agreed.

"Um..." said Piotr.

All three girls opened their eyes very wide, clasped their hands under their chin, and leaned in very close, whimpering, "_Pleeease_?"

Piotr scooted backwards. "All right, all right, just stop with the faces!"

"Yay!" All three made as if to tackle him, then apparently thought better of it.

"Let's go!" Kitty cried, yanking Piotr out of his room.

_Why don't I ever listen to me?_

TWO HOURS LATER...

The movie wasn't his type. It was the kind that Remy would have referred to (in tones of utter disgust) as a chick flick. Piotr was more into art films, but he had to admit he had enjoyed it.

Ok, so Kitty had been next to him. Same difference.

"Ok, I'm going to forgive you, because I'm a very Zen person.. and I'm on a lot of pain medication right now," Jubilee sighed. "Sounds like something Piotr would say." (1)

"Huh?"

"Just had to see if you were listening, Tin Man."

Piotr's eyebrows went up. Rahne and Kitty quickly backed off, leaving the Asian girl (who came up to Piotr's forearm) alone.

"Yeah, thanks."

"I'm not crazy," said Rahne.

"And you're just siding with your boyfriend, aren't you, Kat."

"You see, that's why I'm not helping you," Kitty replied.

"I think Remy would like you," Piotr pronounced.

"...What does that have to do with anything?"

"Nothing, but I'd really rather not talk about the current topic."

"Says Mister Stare at the Girl Instead of the Screen," Rahne said oh-so-casually, inspecting her nails.

"I think we're screwed, Piotr," Kitty sighed.

"See? I told you not to bring me," Piotr replied. "Remy would have been a much safer bet."

"Remy was the one who had the brains to run for the door as soon as we arrived, right?" Rahne asked.

"...Yes..."

"Oy vey," Kitty muttered. "Come on, let's find the car."

They walked out into the parking lot. "Um... anyone remember where we parked?"

"It wasn't here," said Rahne. "We had to park a few blocks away, remember?"

"Right... which direction did we go to come here, then?"

"Um..." said the other three in unison.

Kitty facepalmed. "It's gonna be a long night."

A FEW BLOCKS IN EVERY DIRECTION LATER...

The girls collapsed onto a bench. "I think we're screwed, gals," said Kitty.

"So we've looked everywhere, right?" Jubilee said. "Everywhere that fits Rahne's description, anyway," she added, with a glare at her friend.

"Hey, at least I have a vague recollection, as opposed to the rest of you," Rahne huffed, crossing her arms. "I mean, even Piotr doesn't remember, and he _drove_!"

The others looked at him and he replied, "It's been proved in studies that girls are better at remembering landmarks than boys."

"But boys are supposed to be better at remembering just plain old directions," Kitty replied. (2)

"...That's not the point."

Kitty threw her hands in the air. "I think we should just start for home now. At this rate, we may just make curfew walking."

Jubilee and Rahne groaned.

"Hey, you're not wearing heels."

They promptly shut up, having been shown how much worse their predicament could be.

ABOUT TWO HOURS LATER, FIVE MINUTES BEFORE CURFEW...

"I can't believe we made it," Jubilee gasped, as the three of them walked up to the front step. "I mean, after the thing with the owl..."

"The stalking soda can," Kitty agreed.

"That one woman who called me a pimp," Piotr added.

"Is that what she said?" Jubes asked. "I'll have to remember that. I've always wanted to be able to call jerks pimps in other languages."

"Ditto," said Kitty.

Piotr rolled his eyes.

"Not for use on you, of course," Kitty hurriedly assured him. "You're, like, totally not that type. I mean-"

"Kitty, babbling. Stop," Jubilee commanded.

"Oh. Right. Sorry... well, at the very least, the only thing we'll get punished for is losing the mansion's most normal car."

"Scott's gonna maul us, in other words," Rahne answered.

"Yep," said Kitty and Jubes in unison.

As was natural, Logan answered the door. All three girls gave Logan their best "We're not late, really!" smiles. Piotr settled for the least threatening of his normal moody looks. "You kids barely scraped it," Logan muttered, but let them in."

Piotr started inside, but Kitty grabbed his arm, shutting the door as soon as Logan had turned his back. "I wasn't going to do this earlier, but tonight's kind of loosened my inhibitions... I think it was the near-death experience with the owl."

Piotr blinked. She had a very odd look on her face, and it was making him nervous, but not in a bad way. In fact, it was probably a very good way, if he could ever get up the guts to-

His line of rational cognition ended as Kitty acted on what he was thinking. In other words, she stood on tiptoe and kissed him. After a few blissful but still confusing moments, she backed down. "Not that I don't want to do that longer," she stammered, brushing some hair behind her ear, "but my feet really hurt."

Piotr fully realized what had just happened and turned a rather fetching shade of dark red. "Er, _da_..."

"Come on, we'd better get inside." 

(I love Kiotr. It's just so damn cute! ...and no, I don't actually know how to say pimp in Russian. I wish. And if that came out as sap, blame Katie Maxwell and my friend Ray Ray, who keeps supplying me with her books. Next time: Pissing off Petey!)

(1) Quote from Mean Girls. I wanted to use a more recent, dumber film, but I couldn't find any. I happen to find Mean Girls amusing. Idiotic, but amusing.

(2) Statistics prove- at least the ones I've read- that these two statements are true.


	25. Pissing Off Petey

Disclaimer: "Best friend is really just a synonym for main antagonist."

(An: This is a short chapter, but the world needs more Piotr razzing.)

Pissing Off Pete (Fame and Infamy)

Piotr, still trying to process what had just happened to him, stumbled into his room. He sat down on his bed, blinking. "I think something good just happened to me," he mumbled.

"The wall is _fascinated_ by your vague explanation of your odd behavior, I'm certain," Remy commented.

Piotr jumped. Somewhere in the back of his brain, he knew he should've been aware of Remy's presence; it _was_ his room too, after all. _I'm glad Illyana got her own room, at least. One less person I have to explain this... _feeling_ to._

"I'm more curious, though, as to whom made you look as though someone replaced your blood with electricity," Remy went on. "I think _mon cher ami_ has-" (1)

"If you say crush, I will crush _you_," Piotr replied. "Like a soda can." 

"Love makes him violent," Remy sighed to his wall.

Piotr crossed his arms. "Why do I talk to you?"

"Because you're so pathetic that only someone who annoys you can ever get through that thick skull and I'm one of the only people to pick up on that?"

"...I hate you so much right now."

"Everyone hates me all the time. I kind of enjoy it. It's like being loved, except you get to do bad things and not worry about it. It's like fame and infamy- they mean the same thing, they just have different connotations."

"Please, feed me more philosophy."

"_Porquoi_?"

"Because every moment you spend explaining your obscure point of view is a moment not spent teasing me."

Remy snapped his fingers. "I knew I was forgetting something!" He sat up and looked Piotr over. A smirk spread across his face. "She kissed you, didn't she?"

"Shut up."

Remy cackled madly, tilting his head back. "She did! Oh, this is too good... I figured that girl would have to do it for you. You'd never have the balls."

"I regret my decision to remove all heavy objects from this room."

"There's the alarm clock. We don't need that!"

"Yes, but it wouldn't make the same satisfying thump as, say, a brick when it collides with your head."

"And you know this... how?"

Piotr just pulled off his shoes and said nothing.

"Why do I ask?" Remy said, slapping his forehead in mock exasperation with himself. "You're far too thick for anything but brute force!"

"You know, if I were a less centered person, this would be when I pulled berzerker rage." (2)

"You know a word like berzerker? Wow. Kissing a genius must be like osmosis."

"...What's osmosis?"

Remy rolled his eyes. "Never mind, Cassanova."

"You're calling _me_ Cassanova?"

"For your information, I haven't even _thought_ about my former playboy status since I came here."

Piotr's eyebrows went up.

"...Ok, maybe a little. But way less than before! I'm a changed man."

Piotr, though, had found his tack and was sticking with it. In other words, the eyebrows stayed up.

"_Mon ami_," said Remy, sounding serious for once, "it's not nice to tease a man about things he can't change."

"Then why are you teasing me?"

"Because you're just so _easily_ provoked!" He added in a barely audible mutter, "And you can actually kiss your girl of choice."

"If you pull Angsty Remy on me again, I really _will_ kill you. Even merciless teasing is better than you depressed."

"Fine, fine," Remy replied, flapping a hand at him. "So are you actually going to be a man and make the next move?"

Piotr put his head in his hands. "If I have the nerve to look her in the eye tomorrow..."

"...Well, it was a nice thought, at least. You two would have been cute together. Almost nauseating, really."

"You honestly don't think I can do this, do you."

"Technically, I'm trying to prod you into doing something good for yourself, but if that's what it takes, then no."

And that _was_ what it took; Piotr's ire was up. He got up and twitched a finger at Remy. "Come on."

Remy beamed at him and hopped out of bed, following Piotr to Kitty and Rogue's room. Piotr took a deep breath before knocking. Rogue answered, looking skeptical. "Do you need something?" Piotr pointed behind her and Rogue got the hint, stepping out into the hallway and gesturing at the door. "Go ahead. I was hoping someone would shut her up."

Piotr shut his eyes for a moment before walking across the room to Kitty (who was absorbed in a magazine and hadn't even noticed them), pulling her to her feet and kissing her.

Remy chuckled, leaning in the doorway.

"Glad someone's happy," Rogue muttered.

"Aw, _chere_, don't be like that. It's cute."

"You're not the one who's gonna get your ear talked off for the next month."

"True..."

Rogue punched him.

"Ow! What was that for?"

"My suspicion that you antagonized Piotr into it."

"...I thought Xavier was the telepathic one. Woman, you're confusing me."

"Which is my job, so I'm considering it a fairly good deal."

When Piotr and Kitty broke off, they just stared at each other for a second. "Oh, good," said Kitty faintly. "I was wondering if this was mutual."

"Of course it is."

"Wanna have dinner Friday?"

"Sounds great."

Piotr gave her one quick kiss again (it was nice to be able to do that) before leaving. "Ok," he said to Remy as soon as they were in their room again.

"Ok what?"

"Ok, you can- what's that phrase John uses?- 'take the mickey out of me.'"

"Eh, I'll wait 'til morning. I'll have something good by then, don't you worry."

Piotr made a very cheerful rude gesture at him and collapsed on his bed.

(Longer than I expected, but that's because the ending was random. At this rate, Kiotr's gonna get the most macking in this fic. Which isn't a bad thing. Next time: Being Bobby!)

(1) These are how explanations are made in Skysong Land. Live with it.

(2) Piotr has several instances of bezerker rage in the comics. It was how he died in "Days of Future Past" and he beat up Pete Wisdom over Kitty during one fit. Or something.


	26. Kurt's Birthday

Disclaimer: "Can I kill him?" "No." "You never let me have any fun."

(An: Well, the reason that this took so abysmally long is because I was writing ahead. Yes, medears, you'll once again be getting daily updates. I meant to add this on SB's birthday, but I was out of town at the time. You might notice there's a chapter missing; that's because I cut "The Fight". Chapters like "John's Rant" and "Save Me" have been duly altered. It just really started to bug me, and this story does too much of that. Originally, I was going to have a whole bunch of filler chapters, but I realized that was what my problem was originally and just skipped to the section where stuff happens. So… um… this means… no Rahm. -sweatdrop- Go read "Stupid People" if you're that desperate.)

Kurt's Birthday (Pants)

Remy was woken at six AM by a loud singer. It had been a few weeks since Piotr and Kitty had started dating, and he had gotten used to being disturbed at earlier times than was normal, since Piotr had gotten his inspiration back and thus was doing something arty at all times of the day. So Remy had learned to drown him out.

However, what woke him up that morning was about ten times as loud as Piotr.

"My ears…" Remy mumbled. He groaned and shoved his head under his pillow. Nothing doing. Remy considered sobbing over lost sleep but settled for asking, "What on earth is that noise?"

Piotr's response was a happy noise.

"Damn you and your euphoria," Remy muttered. It was obvious that whatever it was wasn't going to shut up on its own. From the noise, Remy figured it was probably a large bird. Remembering belatedly to pull on a pair of jeans, Remy poked his head outside. Beyond the sanctity of his room, it sounded like it was coming from the floor below them. Remy yawned, glad that no one else was awake at this ungodly hour. On a Saturday, no less. Whatever was making the racket was going to pay.

Remy stumbled down the steps, following the sound to… the showers? He peered inside the male room, wondering if he could recruit any females to shut up the offender if it were coming from the other door. But no, as soon as he stepped inside, the noise solidified into… "WE ALL LIVE IN A YELLOW SUBMARINE!" (1)

"…Kurt?" Remy asked, looking around. The singing stopped, and Remy looked around, trying to spot his fuzzy friend.

"Morning, Remy!" Kurt was, of course, behind him, causing Remy to almost jump out of his skin. Kurt was soaked, wearing only a towel, and grinning like a maniac. Well, actually, like himself, but same difference. (2)

Remy shook his head. "Kurt, did you have a mic in the showers or something?"

Kurt blinked. "…No?"

"Well, then, why were you so damn loud?" Remy tried to make the statement sound pissed and standoffish, but it was hard, since Kurt looked absolutely pathetic dripping wet. Like a big blue puppy or the proverbial drowned rat. So he settled for amused but slightly annoyed.

Kurt's grin widened (which seemed like it should have been a physical impossibility). "Because it's my BIRTHDAY!" On birthday, Kurt grabbed Remy in a bear hug so tight it seemed, again, like a physical impossibility.

"…Oh. Happy birthday, mon ami," said Remy, gingerly peeling his friend off. "Do me a favor… If you're going to hug me, put some pants on first, huh?"

"Ok!" Kurt beamed at him, and Remy pinched the bridge of his nose as his friend disappeared into the showers proper once again.

Well, I may at least use the extra awake time to buy him a birthday present… something slightly vindictive, of course… a dog brush, perhaps?

O-o-O-o-O

After getting on a shirt, Remy ventured downstairs in the hopes that someone else had made the coffee. He found Kitty in the kitchen and approached warily. There was a pot of coffee ready-made, but she was icing a cake, so Remy figured he was safe. Still… "You didn't make this, right?" he asked, pouring himself a cup.

Kitty looked disgusted. "Like, no way! I don't drink coffee. Stunts the growth, you know? I know I'm way beyond growing, but I don't wanna take any chances. Besides, tea's better for you."

The nice thing about Kitty was that she didn't believe in silence. Remy tuned out her babble, taking a sip of the precious liquid. Once he was feeling like himself again, he asked, "So today's Kurt's birthday?"

"Yeah, isn't it awesome? He's turning eighteen! He's, like, legal now!" Kitty paused, then said, "That sounded bad, didn't it?" Remy just stared at her. "What I meant was that now Kurt can, like, vote and stuff! You know, every mutant that can vote makes all this stuff fairer and crap… I should just stop talking." (3)

"You take all the fun out of teasing," Remy replied.

Kitty sighed in disgust and went on writing whatever it was on the cake.

"Oh, one last thing-"

Kitty growled, squeezing the tube and accidentally ruining a blue rose. "No, I didn't make the cake. It's safe. Kurt told me that could be my birthday present to him… jerk."

"What about the-"

"No. Not the icing, either."

"Oh. Good."

"Get out before I castrate you with a spoon. I don't want to have to wash it."

"Why a spoon?"

"Because it's dull! It'll hurt more!" Kitty shrieked.

Remy decided he'd probably pushed her far more than was safe and quickly left.

O-o-O-o-O

Remy wandered around the mall, pondering that age-old (or maybe not) question: What do you get the blue, fuzzy, drowned rat who has everything? Cologne? It'd cover up that wet fur smell… but with Kurt, it might end up being worse… Coffee? …No, definitely not. Cards? …We are not shopping for ourselves, genius.

Meandering from store to store, Remy saw nothing that he figured his fuzzy friend would like. Kurt was a strange case. His taste in music (as shown) tended toward Beatles, and Remy knew he already owned all of the albums. His taste in clothes… was non-existant. Kurt had all the clothes he wanted, and he usually wore his uniform anyway. Food… well, there was always that, but that felt a little half-assed. Kurt had been one of the first to welcome the former Acolytes to the mansion, and Remy wanted to show that it had meant something to him, dammit!

Remy frowned, looking around himself. He broke into a broad grin as he spotted something that would do just that.

(Neh. It's something, anyway. FFN is not letting me post in my normal format, so I had to put this up with Notepad. When FFN stops being such a jerk, I will repost it with the HTML. Hopefully, you'll be able to figure out thoughts and what-not. Next time: Curly Fries!)

(1) Yes. That was a reference. Clever readers.

(2) That minute pause you heard was all of the fangirls (myself included) picturing that.

(3) Kurt is seventeen, according to Beyond Evolution. Assuming that's his age at the end of the series… w/e. It's not like anyone's keeping track. 


	27. Curly Fries

Disclaimer: "You know when you said you could make a never-ending supply of curly fries? Well, today's the day!" 

(An: You get absolutely no points if you can pick up on the Toddfan reference. You get negative points if you can't. So, yeah, these next few chapters are Storge.)

Curly Fries (Passe Before I even Invented it)

The nice thing about changing shirts was that it didn't involve taking off your bra. It was still rather embarrassing to be walked in on while doing so, though.

"Augh!" Whoever it was quickly ducked back and shut the door.

Ororo finished pulling on her shirt and peered outside. Forge was standing there, prosthetic hand clutching a duffle bag and the other clapped firmly over his eyes. He was muttering curses under his breath. When he heard the door open, he cautiously opened an eye. Satisfied that her shirt was on, he switched from curses to apologies.

Ororo rolled her eyes. "It's all right. I shouldn't have left the door unlocked, except that I figured everyone was downstairs with Kurt."

"Well, I'd be downstairs with Kurt, except that I think that he probably would run away shrieking from his present unless I have time to tell him what it does first." Forge held up the duffel bag with a grin that lacked eye contact. "He told me where his room was, but I kind of… got lost…"

Ororo raised an eyebrow. "So this one-"

It was clear Forge had been expecting a question by the matter-of-fact way he rattled off, "No, it will not have any transdimensional side effects, no, it will not mess with Kurt's powers, and no, it will not go on a mansion-destroying rampage."

"No vulture robots of death?" (1)

"Absolutely not. That was passe before I even invented it."

"Then what is it?"

Forge fished in the duffel bag, coming out with something octagonal, mauve, and slightly lethal-looking. (2)

"And what does it do?"

Forge grinned again. "Supplied with enough potatoes and electricity, it can make curly fries until the end of time."

"But it looks so-"

"Evil? Yeah, I know. Production kink." He looked at the device sadly. "I'm hoping that the lure of food will keep Kurt from booking for the next state."

"Good luck with that."

"Well, I'm trying to convince him that not everything I make either doesn't work or has nasty side effects. This thing works, and the only weird thing is that the fries always get dyed green… somehow. They taste fine, though."

Ororo shook her head. "Would you like me to show you where Kurt's room really is?"

"I was hoping I wouldn't have to ask, yes."

Kurt's room, as it turned out, was on a different floor and smack on the other side of the building. "Ok, so I got really lost…"

"Don't worry, it happens to everyone. I keep telling Xavier that he should have maps installed, but we end up having to spend the money on food… like every other cent that comes our way."

Forge shuddered at the thought of having to feed twenty-odd hungry teenagers.

"My feelings exactly."

(Well, yeah, I said daily updates, but FFN wasn't letting me upload ANYTHING. Now it's back to Notepad documents. -rolls eyes- The next chapter will be good and long and ON TIME unless FFN does something screwy again. Next time: Ain't No Party like a Morlock Party!)

(1) "Teacher Training", I think.

(2) Again, big no-prize, even though this is a bit of an amalgamation.


	28. Ain't No Party Like a Morlock Party

Disclaimer: "Babe? Complete and utter BS. Pigs are evil. EEEEVIL."

(An: Cue randominity in three... two... one... Props to Morlock (Sperrydee on FFN) who gave me Remy's and Logan's gifts. And the disclaimer quote.)

Ain't No Party Like a Morlock Party (Birthday Hugs)

Forge and Ororo were still talking around noon, when Kurt's party really started. Or, in other words, when Kurt's sugar rush kicked in.

"WHOOO!" Kurt yelled, audible (or so Forge figured) throughout the entire building.

"Evan must be here," said Ororo, looking a tad more cheerful. "Come on." Forge (who hadn't had any intention of relinquishing his seat on the sofa lest someone else take it) suddenly found himself being dragged off by the hand.

"Neh?" Forge asked. Before Ororo grabbed him, he had been certain that nobody could travel at the speed of light. Now he wasn't so sure.

"Evan's my nephew. He lives in the sewers."

Forge stared at her.

"With the Morlocks, long story." Ororo pulled him to the front door, a large skid mark indicating that the mentioned nephew had received a supersonic Kurt tackle. Forge winced in sympathy.

Looking behind herself at the tussling ball of blue fur and bone spikes was a young woman with black hair and an eyepatch.

Evan finally managed to disentangle himself from Kurt. "I missed you too, blue boy, but I like being able to breathe."

Kurt smirked. "Ah, who needs lungs?"

The black boy stood, brushing the dirt from his jeans. He helped Kurt up and beamed at Ororo. "Hey, Auntie O. Been a while."

Ororo rolled her eyes in a way that couldn't quite manage to be cross, replying, "It's good to see you too, Evan." She nodded at the woman. Forge was pretty sure he felt the temperature drop a few degrees. 

"Forge!" Kurt cried, even though the inventor had already greeted him. He held out his arms, grinning hopefully.

Forge quickly backed up, holding his hands in front of him. "Hey, hey, man, I like having one real arm."

"But I'm collecting birthday hugs!"

Forge sighed and put his arms down.

"YAY!"

"…Forge? You ok?" Ororo asked

"Mildly dazed but alive. Kurt, why don't you get a hug from 'Ro?"

"She baked the cake, so she already gave me a hug, only one that's sticky and chocolate!" Kurt cried.

Wondering exactly how much sugar Kurt had had in the first place, Forge replied, "Ok then… could you get off me, please?"

"Nah. You're pretty comfortable."

"Why not go hug scary girl over there?"

"Scary girl" raised an eyebrow (the one above the eyepatch, which just reinforced Forge's nickname).

Kurt glanced at her and shuddered. "Are you kidding? Callisto would eat me!" he "whispered". It was about as much of a whisper as Forge's prosthetic arm was soft and cuddly.

"I can hear you, you know," said Callisto, crossing her arms.

Kurt sat up, scooting off Forge. He then stretched himself out flat again and proceeded to inch inside the house, looking very much like a giant blue catterpillar.

Forge shook his head, getting up and dusting off his pants.

"Remind me why you're friends again?" Ororo asked, as Evan dragged Callisto inside and Kurt claimed another birthday hug, this time from a very surprised Piotr.

"He's the only person who talks to me… my parents are convinced I'm a ghost, so if I interact with them they throw dreamcatchers and holy water and stuff like that at me. You know, just in case." Ororo stared at him. "…Yeah, that sounded weird."

"Pretty much. Come on, I have to keep an eye on Kurt. On his last birthday, he almost decapitated Scott with a hug."

"I'm not surprised… which one is Scott?"

"Shades."

"Ah, yes, Stick-up-ass Boy."

"I shouldn't find that funny… and yet I do."

"Yes, well, you're Stoic Woman, so don't get too cocky."

Ororo shook her head. "Don't make me fry you. Your arm'd probably be a pretty good conductor."

"Not funny. I've been shocked too many times by experiments gone awry."

"Does _anything_ you make work?"

"Yes! Most of it, actually. Just… not the stuff that's worth mentioning."

"Ah. Of course."

They walked into the common room, where Kurt was hugging a box of Twinkies. "In retrospect, perhaps not a wise gift," Hank commented from his spot on the back of the couch, "but at least if you share them with Mr. Drake, it may prevent him from trying to steal mine." He glanced at Bobby. "They're _sacred_, Drake." (1)

Bobby just beamed at him.

Logan was next, handing Kurt a box. Kurt pressed his face to it, inhaling deeply. "Is it-!" He ripped off the paper. "It is! Chicken on a stick!" He bamfed, and Logan found himself with a hyperactive blue fuzzball clinging to his head. "Chicken on a stick, chicken on a stick, it's tasty and it's thick 'cause it's chicken on a stick!" (2)

"Elf!"

"Sorry!" Kurt bamfed back to his own seat on the couch.

And so down the line it went. Kurt's presents ranged from the extravagant (the senior X-men and the professor had all chipped in to buy him an autographed copy of Abby Road; Kurt had relinquished all hatred of eBay) to the personal (Piotr had painted a picture of Amanda for him) to the requiring-disinfectant (Evan had brought a disco ball that was rather dirty but still in working order, supposedly discovered in the alley behind a club; even Kurt decided not to ask too much about it).

And then everyone turned and looked expectantly at Remy, who had yet to give Kurt anything. "It hasn't arrived yet. Amanda said she'd pick it up for me."

"A present _and_ my girlfriend!" Kurt started to get up, but Remy quickly took a few steps back.

"Can I skip the hugging for now?"

"But I'm wearing pants this time!"

Rogue looked at Remy, lips twitching. Remy sighed, facepalming. Then the doorbell rang. "I'll get it," he cried, looking very relieved. Remy beat feet out of the room and to the front door. Amanda, as expected, was waiting there, a long, thin box tucked under her arm, but so were a small group of teenagers.

"More Morlocks?" Remy asked, looking around Amanda.

"Yeah, what of it?" said a punky-looking chick.

Remy rolled his eyes. Amanda shoved a package into his hands. "This is yours," she said. "What's in it, anyway?"

Remy smirked. "It'd ruin the surprise. Thanks for getting it for me, though."

Amanda smiled. "Ah, it was no problem. The mall's on the way here, and it was a good excuse for heading up this way."

They walked inside. Amanda was immediately tackled by Kurt, and Evan got a sharp thwap to the ear when Callisto spotted the Morlocks.

"Don't look at me!" Evan cried, rubbing his head. "I told them to stay home!"

The punk chick smirked, sitting down by Callisto. "You left Caliban in charge. That would make _anyone_ surface-sick."

"She's got a point," Evan said, "…but please don't hit me again." Evan edged over by his aunt.

"Hey, I don't mind," said Kurt. "Can I have hugs?"

"Uh, you might wanna pass on that one, Kurt," said Evan. "Scaleface'll eat you."

"Him? It's his birthday," said the Morlock, flipping the hair out of her eyes. "Besides, fur gives me indigestion." (3)

Kurt shrugged, pulling Amanda beside him on the couch. He looked at Remy. "So…?"

"I'm only gonna show you this, ok? I don't trust you with pointy objects in your current state of mind." He set the box on the coffee table and, with a certain amount of overacted ceremony, opened it. Inside, the light reflected off freshly polished metal. It was a rapier with a small sapphire set in the hilt. Kurt's name was inscribed above it. (4)

Kurt stared at the thin sword for a moment, then looked at Remy, who sighed and stepped into range. There was a loud thud as he hit the ground. "Best present EVER!" were the only discernable words in Kurt's babbling.

"You haven't gotten mine yet," Amanda pointed out. "And I think Remy'd like to be conscious for the rest of your party, sweetie."

"Oh, right," said Kurt, letting go of the wheezing Cajun. "Sorry." Kurt patted him on the head and hopped back onto the couch.

Remy got up, rubbing his chest. "I'll put this in your room, all right?" Kurt nodded, already distracted by the prospect of Amanda's gift. He left, Rogue falling into step beside him.

"Are you sure that was wise?" she asked, looking amused. "Kurt's gonna be poking people with and crying 'first blood!' for weeks." (5)

"Well, true… but I wanted to get him something good."

"Musta been pricey, though."

"Not for me." When Rogue looked at him, Remy shook his head. "Joking, _chere_, just joking. I wouldn't steal a present… unless it was for Scooter, maybe. You know, add an extra level of sadism."

"Ok, so what was up with the pants thing, then?"

"Oh, _Dieu_, you mean you didn't forget that?"

"How could I?"

"Ah, he assaulted me in the bathroom this morning… I told him not to hug me without pants."

Rogue crossed her arms. "So did you guys have a steamy shower scene or something?"

"What, are you upset you weren't invited?"

"Ok, that's just gross. He's my brother. I was asking in case you were in love with him and wanted to talk about it. He's not dumping Amanda anytime soon."

Remy stopped and stared at her. He pinched the bridge of his nose. "_Mon Dieu_, I'm talking to a crazy woman. I am _straight_. And even if I weren't, I wouldn't be gay for Kurt… his love _hurts_." He shook his head and placed the box by Kurt's door.

"Well, I figured I'd ask, just in case… you know, friends are supposed to talk about that stuff."

"And then… what? We'd bond over ice cream and compare moisturizers?"

"Ew… that would more be Kitty's thing… I guess I just haven't had enough practice at this 'friend' bit. With Kitty and the rest of the gals, it's more a matter of tolerating them than anything."

"_Oui_, I know what you mean."

"I ain't opposed to the ice cream part of what you said, though."

Remy grinned. "Oh, goody. We'll be doing the whole mansion a favor."

"We will?" Rogue asked.

"Yeah. We'll be keeping some of the sugar away from Kurt, and we'll be keeping all of the sexiness in the mansion in one place." He grinned, wiggling his eyebrows.

Rogue sighed. "How is that you can be narcissistic _and_ hit on me all in one sentence?"

"It's a talent, _chere_."

The two of them meandered back downstairs, meeting a much more chaotic scene than they had left. Kurt had finished opening his gifts, and the party had gotten into full swing. Thankfully, all of the breakable objects had been moved out of the room. The Morlocks were mostly keeping to themselves, dancing off to the left of the X-men. Except for Scaleface, but she wasn't really dancing; she was making out with Ray. (6)

"Piotr is actually quite funky," Rogue commented. Somehow, she kept a straight face.

Remy nodded. "We tried to get him to poledance.. for the money, see. But the way he looked in a G-string would have totally ruined mine and John's reputations." Rogue glanced at him. "The fact that I can say that is proof that I am very comfortable with my sexuality, not of any gayness," he insisted, folding his arms.

"Sure, swamp rat, whatever."

Remy rolled his eyes. Then he smirked, holding out a hand. "So, wanna dance?"

Rogue eyed him suspiciously, then replied in a too-light tone, "It ain't dancing out there, it's moshing. I don't wanna take any chances with my face, thank you."

There was a loud yelp as Bobby got clocked in the nose by a hobbity-looking Morlock, who seemed unsure if she wanted to apologize or burst out laughing. Remy, seeing this, said, "You know, you're probably right about that. I like my teeth."

"Let's go lean against the wall and be disaffected."

"Can we be disaffected with ice cream?"

"In fear of sounding like Kitty, duh!"

(Huh, I hadn't intended that chapter to be so much about Remy and Rogue… whatever. Technically, this chapter is on time… I just couldn't post it any earlier because of the storms. Next time: A Little Rusty!)

(1) Reference to a chapter that got cut because it was pointless. Beast is infamous for keeping Twinkies in his lab… well, in adam-bat's fics anyway.

(2) Apparently, Morlock made up this song… or knows it, at least. And apparently, this stuff exists. I've never actually seen it, thank God.

(3) For the perpetually clueless, Scaleface is the chick who turned into a lizard.

(4) Comics!Kurt was quite handy with a sword and had quite a taste for pirate movies. In Ultimate-verse (I think), he and Angel used the Danger Room for a Pirates-esque sequence.

(5) 'First blood' is a term usually used in duels… or something. I don't remember where I heard it, but the image of Kurt running around yelling it amuses me. Anyway, it's used when the first cut is landed.

(6) Morlock-baiting. She likes Scaleface/Ray.


	29. A Little Rusty

Disclaimer: "To steal or not to steal- oh, the hell with it! Steal!"

(An: I'm trying to vary the short and long chapters… so this one is short.)

A Little Rusty (Thieves Gotta Stick Together)

Kurt's party was still going strong, so it was easy for Ororo to sneak away while Kurt was trying to teach Forge to dance. Not modern dances, just plain dancing. Forge had the rhythm of a dead squirrel.

She crept up to Kurt's room and was just about to reach into Forge's duffel bag when someone cleared their throat. She whirled. Remy was leaning in the doorway wearing his trademarked smirk. Ororo sighed.

"I guess it's been a while?" Remy asked.

"Since what?" Ororo knew what he was talking about, but it was better for her current reputation as "Stoic Woman" to pretend she didn't.

"Since the last time you robbed somebody."

Ororo glanced at the duffel bag, unable to suppress a guilty look. "I'm not robbing him, I'm borrowing something."

"For an indefinite period?" Remy replied, clearly amused.

"It's only robbing if I have no intention of returning it. And I'm going to."

"Ah, so it's like that." Remy nodded. "You know, normal people just go visit someone when they want to talk instead of stealing their stuff."

"Normal people ask for help instead of kidnapping the person in question."

"_Touché_, but I still don't think Forge will take kindly to you taking his stuff."

"Yes, but he doesn't have to know I took it, does he?" Ororo raised an eyebrow, and Remy shook his head.

"Hey, don't worry about me ratting you out. We thieves gotta stick together, no?"

Ororo rolled her eyes. "I guess I'm just a little rusty."

Remy nodded. "Being respectable for too long will do that to a person. Me, I find it's much more fun to be an antihero. You get to be loved _and_ have fun!"

"I'm supposed to be setting an example… so are you, for that matter."

"I am setting an example! The wrong one!"

Ororo laughed. "No, that's Logan's job."

"Logan teaches the kids how to be jerks. I teach them how to be _charming_ jerks."

"Why am I suddenly tempted to say 'keep trying' and call you swamp rat?"

"Because Rogue has suddenly developed telepathic powers and wishes to harrass me from afar?"

"If that happened, we'd all be in trouble."

"No, just me. Rogue has a grudge against me. She'd kick my ass. And maybe make Jean dye her hair. She's jealous as hell."

"And how would you know that?"

"…You don't tell her I've been reading her diary, and I won't tell Forge you've been stealing his stuff."

"Deal." Ororo pulled an "I -heart- my torque wrench" mug out of the bag, looked incredulously at it for a moment, then walked out.

(See? Shortness. Just a jab at Ororo's past that I couldn't resist. I think there was once a reference to Ororo's past in Evolution… but that's probably just me because that would be giving her character, and Evo obviously didn't believe in that. But neither does anyone else, so there you go… sorry. Ororo's a sore point with me. -sweatdrop- Next time: Sneaky!)


	30. Sneaky

Disclaimer: "Old English, Middle, a dialect pure-" "Well, do you speak English?" "You know, I'm not sure!"

(An: And here is the last Storge chapter… after this, we get into a Jonda slant. So ner, Goldylokz.)

Sneaky (All Sorts of Kinky)

Ororo stared at the bead curtain that served as Forge's door (actually a side entrance to his parent's house). She knew this was the right place (the number was right above it), but she had to steel herself to actually ring the doorbell. _You had the balls to steal his stuff so you could talk to him again, and now you can't even pull it off? Bad, bad form, Ororo!_ Shaking her head, she pressed the button.

"I'm inside!" came Forge's voice.

Ororo stepped through the bead strings. She had been a thief on the streets in the seventies, so the decorating left her feeling like she'd tried acid as opposed to any nostalgia. There was a short hallway leading to a large room full of strange machines and parts. She had to watch her step to avoid tripping over anything. (1)

Forge was leaning over something large and vaguely sphere-like. Looking doubtful, he pressed a button. There was a noise, something like "splut", and the machine spat out a snowball. Ororo cleared her throat, and Forge jumped. He blinked several times. It seemed like he couldn't convince himself that she was really there. As though realizing one was supposed to speak to arrivals, he said, "Oh… hi." He looked around. "Um, not to sound unhappy to see you, but why are you here?"

Ororo smiled, rolling her eyes. She produced his mug, saying, "Kurt found this in his room. I figured I'd drop it off."

"Why you? Why didn't Kurt just bamf it here?"

"He's passed out at the moment. Too much sugar and far, far too many green curly fries. I came because it was a good excuse to not have to help clean up."

Forge winced. "Any casualties from that party, by the way?"

"Just Bobby's nose, and I don't think anyone's too upset about it. It's an excuse for Jubilee to fuss over him, and it hurts to talk, so he's shut up for a while."

Forge nodded. "And the Morlocks?"

"Thankfully returned to the sewers with tensions between us no more strained."

"I thought you didn't like the eyepatch chick," Forge commented, sounding slightly smug.

"Only because she's dating my nephew. I'm not too pleased with him, either, for that matter, since he left me to inform Vi where he'd moved to."

"Vi?"

"My sister… So what exactly is that thing supposed to do?"

Forge looked at it thoughtfully, then back at her. "You know, I'm really not sure." For some odd reason, he blushed. "I, uh, wasn't really thinking about it when I made it."

Ororo raised an eyebrow.

"I do it all the time… yeah, I know, not helping my case. But sometimes, when I'm spacing out, my hands'll just _make_ something, and I usually don't notice until I spot something weird on the table a week later. My power is to invent stuff, so I guess it's not that surprising… it's annoying, though." He pressed the button again, and another snowball joined the slush on the table. "Maybe it's supposed to simulate a snowball's chance in hell… That was pretty much my train of thought, anyway…"

"Oh, really?" Ororo shoved aside a few screws so she could perch on the table beside him. "And why was that?"

Forge seemed a bit unnerved by the question; scooping the snowballs off the table and dumping them in the trash seemed an excuse to keep distance between them. "Uh… well…"

"That's what I like about you," Ororo remarked, picking up a small device. "You're wonderfully articulate." She pressed the red button that took up most of its surface area. The button flashed and the words, "Please do not press this button again", appeared. Amused, she put it down and looked at Forge. (2)

He seemed even more flustered, brushing the hair from his face and fiddling with his cowry shell necklace. In other words, doing everything he could to avoid meeting her eyes.

"Quick-thinking, too," Ororo went on.

"Is there any point to your Forge-baiting?" he snapped. "What on earth do you want with me?"

Ororo looked up at him, a serene smile on her face. "Why do you think I want anything with you?"

Forge crossed his arms, scowling at her. "Because you won't leave, and because I think you took my mug out of my bag on purpose."

"Really?" Ororo said mildly, inspecting her nails. It was all she could do to keep from grinning; he actually _was_ smarter than he looked.

"Yes, really."

She dropped the façade and looked at him, holding his gaze. "And do you have a problem with it if I did?"

"Um… no, not really." 

Ororo stood up, brushing nonexistant dust from her skirt. "I didn't think so," she replied, taking a step closer.

Forge responded by taking a step back and, finding his back against the wall, grinning nervously.

Ororo smirked, closing the gap between them.

"You know, for someone so calm all the time, you're pretty good at making me nervous," Forge observed. He still seemed twitchy, but he was making no attempt to move away.

"It's a talent." When Forge said nothing, Ororo huffed and crossed her arms. "How hard do I have to hint for you to get the point?"

"Point? You mean there was a point? Sneaky. Here I thought you just liked freaking me out."

"Well, I do, but that's just a perk."

Forge looked at her hesitantly. "What _is_ the point, then?"

Ororo sighed in disgust, grabbed him by the shoulders, and kissed him. "Boy, I wish you looked your age," she commented when she let him go. "This feels all sorts of kinky."

"…Uh…" said Forge, who appeared to have trouble dealing with the whole mess. He shook himself. "I take it you want to go to dinner or something?"

"Dinner works. Come on." She grabbed his hand.

"Now?"

"Yes, now. Any excuse to stay out of the mansion, remember?"

Ten minutes later found Ororo and Forge in a diner. Ororo was meticulously picking the nuts from her salad as she spoke, Forge scribbling absently on his napkin. "Vi's not really my sister. She took me in when I moved here." She paused a moment, calculating on her fingers. "Wow, that must've been when I was fifteen… Damn, now I feel old." (3)

Forge made a face. "I wish I had that liberty. Being stuck like this reeks. I have the brain of an adult and the hormones of a teen."

Ororo propped her chin on her fist, lips quirked. "So you have midlife crises about your inability to grow proper facial hair?"

Looking wounded, Forge touched his chin. "Don't diss the soul patch."

"Fine. There are plenty of other things to make fun of."

Forge made a face, scribbling out the schematics on the napkin. "I suppose that verbal abuse is better than physical," he sighed. "Well, all right, then what's with your clothing?" Forge gestured at her skirt and headscarf. "Black, female, mutant- are you trying to play up as many minorities as possible?"

"As opposed to your moccasins?" Ororo answered, sipping her drink. (4)

Forge rolled his eyes. "At best, playing up my heritage might earn me a prestigious deal rigging casinos someday. Yours, well… nobody could ever deny you a job. You're basically a walking discrimination lawsuit."

Ororo nodded, grinning. "Not that I need a job anywhere but the mansion, but it's nice to know I could get one... Actually, a second job might be good. Something soothing, since I have to deal with teenagers all day. Administering shots to rabid gorillas, maybe. You know, for a change of pace."

Forge snorted. "So Stoic Woman isn't so stoic?"

"Quit calling me that."

"But it's pretty much the only thing that'll get a rise out of you. I have to do _something_ to get my own back."

"Good point." Ororo sighed, resting her head on her hands. "I guess it just needles me to have to be so calm all the time. I love letting loose with my emotions, but I can't afford to. I almost wish I hadn't left Africa, sometimes."

"Why?"

"Well, being worshipped as a goddes wasn't that bad," she pointed out.

"Ah, of course." Forge fiddled with his napkin and sighed in disgust.

"What?"

"I had another reply to that, but it sounds all cheesy."

"Tell me anyway."

Forge studied her for a moment, then hesitantly reached across the table to touch her cheek. "It's not hard to see why…" When she didn't immediately reply, he shrunk back and hid behind a mumbled, "See, I told you."

"I didn't think so… I was just thinking I'd look like a total pedophile if I kissed you again for saying it."

Forge blinked a few times, then recovered his cool and nodded sagely. "A common problem with me."

"I figured it was."

(I know it's late, but I went to a friend's house, stayed up all night, and then totally zonked out all Saturday. I'd say there shouldn't be any more wrinkles in the schedule, but whenever I do something pops up… oh, whatever. Next Time: Avarice!)

(1) Going by the thing on Beyond Evolution, Ororo is in her mid-thirties. Since Forge was seventeen by the seventies, that means that he's probably older than she is by five or ten years. Just for the record.

(2) _Hitchiker's Guide to the Galaxy_ joke.

(3) Going by "African Storm," I'm assuming that Ororo has all of her comic past and therefore wouldn't have any known relatives (since her mom died in an earthquake). A sister magically appearing to keep her off the streets seems way too dues ex machina for my tastes.

(4) For the perpetually uninformed, Forge is Cheyenne. And I'm allowed to make casino cracks since I live within a hundred-mile radius of at least three.


	31. Avarice

Disclaimer: "Are you two, you know, together?" "Well, we came here together… we'll leave together… so I guess…"

(An: Uh… this chapter is just really, really random. Apologies in advance.)

Avarice (My Sheila!)

While Ororo was antagonizing Forge, John was arriving back at the Brotherhood house from his job. He was also humming as he walked. Wanda was lounging on the couch when he came in, flipping channels with her powers. She looked him over and asked, "Why on earth are you so happy?"

"Payday."

"Is there something particularly exciting about that?"

"It's payday!"

"Yeah, but usually when you get paid you don't come home grinning like the Cheshire Cat."

"Ah, yes, but today is _the_ payday."

"_The_ payday?"

"I," said John, whirling to face her, "can finally afford a brand-new lighter."

"The whole town's thrilled," Wanda yawned.

"Just for that, you're coming with me." John grabbed her and dragged her off the couch and out the door before she could say a word.

Once they were outside and headed toward the mall, though, Wanda made sure John knew her opinion. It involved a lot of swearing.

"Boy, sheila, who've you been talking to, Samuel L. Jackson?" 

Wanda's response suggested his mother had done something highly unlikely with a snail.

"And your mother with a wharf rat," John replied, clapping her on the back. "Come on, this'll be fun!" (1)

Wanda made a face at him, but the insults stopped. "So what's so bad about your old lighter that you need a new one?"

John took said old lighter out of his pocket and rubbed it against his cheek. "Nothing, but Cecelia's my Acolyte lighter. I make it a point to buy a new one whenever I change my loyalties."

"All righty then. How long is this going to take?"

"Not too long, I wouldn't think… I only go to one store for my lighter needs."

"If you say it's Hot Topic, I'll have to kill you." (2)

John looked appalled. "They sell lighters there? I'll have to burn it down someday." He fished around in his pockets, coming up with a ketchup packet, which he brandished like a cross in front of himself.

"…What's up with the ketchup?"

"Kindergoth repellent. You know, just to ward off any who might be lurking around." John, apparently satisfied that there were none in the region, put the ketchup away. (3)

"Jesus, you're weird," Wanda muttered. "I must have been high when I decided to be friends with you."

"High on what? Eyeliner fumes?"

"Probably… so where are we going?"

"The mall, where does it look like we're going?"

"What _store_, dumbass?"

"That's a secret. If I told you, I'd have to kill you."

"…But we're going there."

"Yes, but that's not telling, it's showing."

"You're weird."

"You've told me."

"It bears repeating, since you didn't seem to get the hint the first time."

O-o-O-o-O

The store John brought Wanda to was small and out of the way; there wasn't a header above the door, just a small sign that read "open". Wanda glanced at John, but he just grinned and said, "I told you it was a secret." He walked inside, and Wanda could tell why he liked the place so much: the walls were lined with lighters in glass cases. And liking the place didn't even seem to apply; scanning the room, John had the look of a religious pilgrim that had finally found his Mecca.

"Holy crap… It's like the mothership is calling you home."

John nodded, not really listening. "The problem with this place is that I never know where to start…" He grinned at Wanda. "That's why I brought you."

"In the interest of keeping our house standing, I should probably tell you to spend your money elsewhere… except I know you wouldn't listen to me."

"Of course not!" John tapped the glass. "What do you think of that one?" he asked, pointing at a square lighter with shark teeth painted around the edge.

"Tacky. Almost painfully so."

"I thought as much," John agreed, nodding. 

After about ten minutes of this, John cried, "There she is! My sheila!" He pressed his nose to the glass like a kid in a department store, looking longingly at the lighter. It was blue, sleek, and apparently spat green flames.

"Can I help you?" said a voice.

Wanda jumped, squashing the urge to shriek; John just waved absently and said, "Hi, Dominic. Yeah, I wanna buy this one." (4)

"Dominic" was a creepy-looking clerk with wide blue eyes, thick makeup, and clothing that wouldn't look out of place at a Boy George concert. "Nice to see you again, John. How's the flamethrower?"

"Busted, unfortunately. I could do with some more acetylene, too."

"You'll have to sign a waiver, then."

"Again?"

"You wouldn't believe what people will sue you for these days." Dominic shook his head sadly, as though mourning the state of the world.

O-o-O-o-O

"Free home delivery," John said, five minutes later in the food court. "Aren't those just the greatest words in the English language?" He flipped the lighter open and gazed adoringly at the flame. "I'm gonna call her… Avarice." (5)

"Are all your lighters females?" Wanda asked, sounding bored. She stole one of John's fries, but he didn't seem to notice.

"Well, yeah. Where'd be the fun if they were blokes? Besides, fire's like a sheila." Wanda rolled her eyes with a slightly overacted "Oh, here we go" expression. "It is! If you treat it right, it'll love you to pieces, but if you take your attention off it, it'll burn you like nothing else. Not even napalm stings like that." When Wanda didn't say anything for a moment, John smirked. "See? I'm right."

"I think I'll stick with getting my Zen-isms out of a fortune cookie, thanks. At least they're tasty."

John flicked the lighter shut and stuck his tongue out at her. "You've been getting fries out of me. What's the difference?"

Wanda tapped her lips with a finger. "Slightly less fat and oil, I'd think." John didn't respond, just stared at her. "…What?"

John shook himself and became very interested in Avarice again. "Nothing, Wanda, nothing."

Wanda broke her oversized cookie in half and shoved the unbitten portion at him. John looked at her, confused. "You called me Wanda for once. You've earned it."

(And there we go… Oh, by the way, I could use some suggestions about somewhere John would drag Wanda off to in the middle of the night- nothing overtly romantic, something strange. One of the chapters calls for that, and I don't like the idea I had for it anymore. Next time: Existential Thinking!)

(1) Butchered quote from _Tris's Book_ by Tamora Pierce.

(2) I don't have anything against Hot Topic, I just think it's a little lame that it's considered the be-all end-all for offbeat stuff… and the fact that whenever I go there I'm -always- out of money…

(3) Again, nothing against Goths. That's a joke from the webcomic Friendly Hostility.

(4) Dominic was Lance's name in the comics, and Pyro and Lance were good friends. Personally, I'm glad they named him Lance. 'Dominic' would have made Lancitty WAY too _West Side Story_, and they were already walking the line, IMO.

(5) Just in case that wasn't clear enough, John is referring to the "free home delivery" of his new flamethrower.


	32. Existential Thinking

Disclaimer: "Sorry. I don't discuss existentialism before noon."

(An: Randominity ensues…again… only this time, it's more angsty than humorous. Yay for Remy angst! Oh… forgot to mention this last chapter, but squee! for 200 reviews.)

Existential Thinking (Lesbian Porn)

The aftermath of Kurt's party had finally been dealt with; Kurt had been dragged up to his bed, the mess in the common room was cleaned up, and Bobby's nose was being treated. It wasn't until all this had finished that Rogue noticed Remy had disappeared. She realized that she'd lost track of him a while ago. Wondering what had made him use his disappearing trick, she headed up to the roof.

As she'd guessed, Remy was sitting up there, staring off into the distance. "Pondering the mysteries of the universe?" she asked. Remy looked at her sharply, seeming surprised. "Damn, you must've been lost in thought. I don't think I've ever caught you off-guard." She sat beside him, resting her head on her knees.

Remy's smile was distracted. Rogue waved a hand in front of his face. "Hello, earth to swamp rat…"

Remy blinked, and then seemed to notice she was there. "Huh?"

Rogue shook her head. "Damn," she repeated. "You shouldn't be up here when you're thinking. You'll fall off the roof for sure."

Remy scowled at her. "I figured you of all people would be able to tell when someone wants to be left alone."

"Yes, but no one ever does me that favor, so why should I be nice to you?"

"Oh, yes, of course," Remy drawled, rolling his eyes. "Don't you have to… I dunno, dye your hair or something?"

Rogue looked miffed. "Dye it? I don't dye it." She fingered one of the white strands wistfully. "I've tried. The color just washes off, even if I use the permanent stuff."

Remy shrugged, turning his attention to the setting sun.

"So why're you up here? Last I checked, you were enjoying yourself…"

Remy didn't smile, like he usually did when she talked, or even look at her; rather, he seemed to recede further into himself with another shrug.

Rogue reached over and rapped on his temples. "Hey. Rem. You alive in there?"

Remy looked at her, a ghost of his usual grin on his face. "Don't really think so, _chere_… Sorry, my mind just ain't on conversation right now."

"What is it on, then?" Rogue asked. "Lesbian porn?"

Remy looked disgusted. "_Chere_, believe it or not, I do think about other things. Most of the time, actually."

"Ok, so teasing's bad… so what _is_ on your mind?" she asked in a gentler tone.

Remy studied her for a moment, then he murmured, "The past, that's all. Just the past, _chere_."

Rogue nodded. Cautiously, since she knew if she asked the wrong way he'd spook, she asked, "Do you wanna talk about it?"

Remy looked at her with a lopsided grin. "_Chere_, I have never figured you to be the touchy-feely type. Feel like I'm talking to the badger."

"Logan? Touchy-feely?"

"Nah, but he goes about it just the way you do- he doesn't really wanna, but he does it 'cause he feels he's obligated."

"Does that mean you don't want to discuss it?"

The grin disappeared; Remy pulled his knees up to his chest and looked away. "I got reminded of something that bothers me. Didn't wanna step on any toes for something that didn't really have anything to do with what called it to mind in the first place. So no, I don't want to discuss it."

Rogue bit her lip to keep the questions in. After a moment, when she was sure she could speak without one popping out, she asked, "So what do you want me to do?"

Remy held out an arm. Rogue looked at him for a moment. Remy raised an eyebrow, as if to say, "Do I _look_ like I'm not serious?" Rogue still hesitated, but she closed the distance between them and leaned against his side. Remy put both arms around and leaned his head on her shoulder. Rogue opened her mouth (to make sure he didn't get the idea she was enjoying this), but Remy shook his head. Rogue shut up and moved closer.

(I've just been in a Romy mood lately… As for the chapter title... yes, it's a one-note joke, but I like it, and Morlock encouraged me. Next time: Victory Dance!)


	33. Victory Dance

Disclaimer: "Is there a thong in your heart?" "Would you call this my heart?"

(An: You know what this chapter means? It means that there are two weeks left of story (well, about; I might change my update schedule when school starts). Oh, yeah, and this is the fun chapter, the one I probably should have led up to more, but still.)

Victory Dance (Love Amongst the Zombies)

About a week and a half later, Wanda was once again disturbed by John's happiness. He had been lurking in his room for a while, rarely emerging except for food, and even that was at odd times of the day. Wanda had tried to ask him about it, but the Aussie had dodged all questions, replying with a vague, "I'm working on something", or, if it was early, "Eh." He had assured her it was nothing personal after the third time she'd asked. Apparently, he just wanted to be left alone, something Wanda could sympathize with.

Still, she liked him, and it was decidedly more boring around the 'hood house without his constant, carrot-topped presence.

But after the first seven days or so he'd surfaced, seeming normal enough (well, for him). He did pay a lot of attention to the mail, though. (1)

And today, on a Wednesday of all days, he was standing in the middle of the hallway, hugging a small package and doing a little dance. Wanda raised an eyebrow, peering out of her room. When he showed no signs of stopping, she stepped all the way outside and into John's line of sight. He stopped immediately, hugging the box even tighter and looking like she'd just backed him into a corner.

Deciding to ignore that, she asked, "What was that all about?"

"What?" John gave her his most innocent look, a valiant try, especially since he already had such an open, honest face.

"The victory dance, John. What was up with the victory dance?"

"Nothing was up."

"You don't do a victory dance for no reason, John. What's in the box?"

John looked at it, and, almost shyly, he said, "Just… just a shipment I was looking forward to getting."

Wanda put her hands on her hips.

John, as though wondering why she hadn't left yet, asked, "What?"

"Well, what is it? It must be something big for you to get _this_ excited over it… did your new flamethrower come in or something?"

John shook his head, looking a bit wistful for a moment. "Nah, not yet." Then he grinned again, patting the box. "This is better."

"Am I going to learn what 'this' is anytime soon?"

John paused, sighed, and opened the box. The book was nice-looking for a paperback, obviously brand-new. It wasn't that what caught Wanda's eye, though. The author's name was "St. John Allerdyce". Wanda grabbed the volume. "Holy crap, John! You wrote a book?"

John coughed. "Have written several, actually, as it happens…" He fiddled with the box top. "When I said I didn't have a job, I lied. What I didn't have was inspiration."

"And you never thought to mention this… because?"

John flipped the book over, pointing at the description on the back. "I write gothic romances. It's bloody embarrassing, really, but that's what I write. The only reason Remy let me forget it is because I, unlike him, had money… well, legal money, anyway."

"'Allen thinks Anya is great,'" Wanda said, reading the blurb above the paragraph, "'that is, until she decides to raise the dead using the Wombromonicon.'"

"Um, yeah," John mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck. "Love amongst the zombies. It's one of my better ones, actually. I quite like it… what?" (2)

"Wombromonicon?"

"It's the book of Lovecraftian legend, only decidedly cuddlier and thus far, far more nefarious." (3)

"Jesus, you're weird." Wanda had lost track of how many times she'd said that. She'd also forgotten just when the note of affection had crept into her voice.

John shrugged. "Yes, but I get paid for it."

"You should have mentioned this earlier. That's much better than your other comebacks… so this is what you've been doing? Writing this?"

"Editing, actually. I've been writing it off and on since I came here."

"So was it the atmosphere or the company that jumpstarted your brain?" Wanda teased.

John, however, didn't get the joke; he shrugged a second time, his eyes wandering along the ceiling. After a few moments, they finally found their way back to hers. "So, um… do you want to read it? That's just an advance copy; they won't be shipping to stores for a few weeks."

Wanda raised both eyebrows.

"That's a yes?"

She smacked his arm (with the hand without the book).

"Ah, yes, of course." John made a face at her, seeming himself again for a moment. He paused, then, hesitantly and with calculated nonchalance, "Oh, read the dedication, all right?" He disappeared into his room.

Wanda rolled her eyes at his back and went back into her own room, sitting down on her bed. She riffled the pages of the book. It was small, the kind of book you saw on a grocery store shelf beside the Harlequins, although it didn't seem that trashy. The idea of John writing a bodice-buster was hilarious, and Wanda amused herself with the image for a few moments before looking at the title. Called _Joke's On Me_, the cover art featured a befuddled young man with a girl sitting on him. The girl was brandishing a large tome with a wombat on it and smirking. It was, Wanda judged, about 300 pages, and it seemed halfway decent.

She flipped it open and was about to start reading when she remembered what John had told her. She flipped back to the front page. Beneath the "other books by this author" list, there was a line of text. "To Wanda- since I would never in a thousand years let you look at this. There's no way you'd let me live it down. I'd put something else here, but on the off chance you do read this, I don't want to sound overly pathetic… we'll stick with 'you're my best friend' for now."

_So much for "never in a thousand years",_ Wanda thought, smiling in spite of herself. She touched the paper, certain she was grinning like a fool now. "What did you mean by 'overly pathetic', I wonder?" she murmured, stretching out.

(Admit it. I had you going with the title for a moment. I was going to have it be "Gothic Romances", but I figured someone would pick up on that. Next time: The Observatory!)

(1) I haven't the faintest how long it takes for an actual publisher-writer editing to take place, nor how long it would take for an advance copy of the book to be made up. Two weeks seems reasonable.

(2) -coughs- I know that by 'gothic romances', it probably refers to the time period… but… well… this is funnier.

(3) The Wombromonicon is from Megatokyo.


	34. The Observatory

Disclaimer: "You're an idiot." "I love you too, honey."

(An: BWAHAHAH. This is the REAL Jonda hookup chapter. Super-duper props to my friend Morlock, who, once again, supplied me with an idea. And, of course, a proper celestial event.)

The Observatory (Syzygy)

Wanda was about halfway through John's book when the author poked his head inside the door. Wanda looked up, raising an eyebrow. "Come on, we're going out," said John.

"Since when?"

"Since now."

"Do I get to know where?" Wanda asked, getting up.

"Nope. Now come on."

Wanda made a big show of sighing and putting the book aside, just so he wouldn't get the idea she liked it when he dragged her out (even though she did). She fell into step beside him, and they walked out of the house. John had a wide, anticipatory grin on his face, and every five minutes or so he'd sneak a look at her, even when they got outside and the only light came from the (mostly busted) streetlamps.

After about the third time this happened, Wanda stopped walking. "John, what are we doing? It's-" she paused, looking at her wrist. Realizing she'd left her watch at home, she reached over and grabbed John's arm instead. "It's almost midnight, and we are walking to… where?" She looked up, to see a very strange smile on his face.

"To see the syzygy." (1)

"…The what?"

"You'll see. And you'll like it. I promise."

Wanda made an annoyed noise but started walking again. Then she paused a second time. "Why don't you lead the way, since you know where we're going?"

John's lips twitched. "I thought you'd never ask." He offered her his arm. After a moment of sizing him up, Wanda shrugged and accepted it.

O-o-O-o-O

They walked like that for about a half-hour. John was strangely quiet and now, instead of glancing at her every five minutes or so, he was glancing at the sky. There was a lovely full moon, but other than that, there didn't seem to be anything that required his attention. Was he embarrassed and didn't want to show it?

"The observatory?" Wanda asked, looking at him curiously.

"Best view in town, luv."

"View of what?"

John looked at her as though it should have been obvious. He gestured at the stars. "Don't you know what happens tonight?" he asked, truly perplexed.

Wanda shook her head. "Why should I?"

John shrugged. "I guess it's not a highly hyped event… but still… I'd figure you'd be into this kind of thing."

"_What_ kind of thing, John?"

John gave her a sideways grin and pointed at the moon. A crescent of darkness had crept over it.

"But wasn't it just-" She paused, a slow grin spreading over her own face. "An eclipse?"

"A syzygy!" John agreed, nodding excitedly. "Come on, before we miss it all!" He dragged her inside and into the main room of the observatory. "Ordinarily, we'd have to pay to get in here," he explained, pulling her to a seat in the center of the room. There were various other people scattered about, all staring at the ceiling. "But ordinarily, it'd be closed by now, and ordinarily they'd be showing a projection, instead of the actual sky." He gestured upward. It was like looking at the moon through a giant magnifying glass. John winked at her. "Special deal because of the eclipse. They have a feed from the main telescope." (2)

Wanda looked up at the sky, then at John. He was still gazing at the ceiling, so she asked, "So why did you bring me here?"

"I told you, I thought you'd be into it. You know, the whole witch thing." His voice was overly nonchalant.

Wanda poked him in the chest. "Be honest with me, John, what's up? You've been all weird lately." John didn't look down, but he raised an eyebrow. "You _know_ what I mean!" She stomped her foot in annoyance.

"You're going to bother everyone else if you don't keep your voice down," John commented. His light tone only made her madder.

"You're bothering _me_," Wanda snapped, only just remembering not to shout. It was infuriatingly lovely that he could send her into such passions.

John looked down at her. "Am I going to have to shut you up?"

"Yes!" Wanda cried, heedless of the annoyed looks the others in the room shot her.

"Fine," said John.

_He doesn't look too upset-_ was about as far as Wanda got before he kissed her. Wanda's brain shut down for a moment. Processing exactly what was happening was far too confusing when his arms and chest and those all-important lips were pressed against her. And it was far less important than kissing him back.

The problem with an eclipse is, while it is a very fascinating event, it can also be a very short one. The one that night wasn't an actual syzygy because, while the earth and the moon flitted into one another's paths, they only lined up enough for a partial shadow.

So when they finally broke apart, John looked back up at the ceiling (without letting go of Wanda, of course). Wanda followed his eyes and said, "Damn, we missed it."

"Nah, you did. I was watching while you were ranting, remember?" Wanda made a face at him (he could actually see it, since the moon was back in full). John sat, propping his feet on the seat in front of himself.

Wanda gestured at the other people. "Shouldn't we be following suit?"

John tugged her down into the seat beside him. "Wanda, it's dark, secluded, and we're getting a free show. Why on earth would I want to leave?"

"Good point." She leaned over to kiss him again, then paused. "Didn't you say you were doing something with Remy tomorrow?"

"What does that have to do with _anything_?"

"Again, good point." Wanda shrugged and shut up.

O-o-O-o-O

They stayed there until a very annoyed astronomer kicked them out, making sure they knew his opinion of teenagers who took advantage of a cosmic wonder to make out. John and Wanda nodded politely, but of course they weren't paying attention.

As soon as he shut up, they quickly left and meandered home, hand in hand. "So," said John, after about five minutes of comfortable silence, "what did you think of the book?"

Wanda rolled her eyes in disgust that she, as usual, didn't really feel. "I haven't finished it yet. You interrupted me."

John shrugged. "Under the circumstances, I think it was worth it." He squeezed her fingers and grinned, somewhat shyly. "What did you think of it _so far_, at least?"

"It's good. Smarter than most romance novels I've read. It's funny, too."

Now John grinned fully, looking quite pleased with himself. "I'd hoped you'd think so. I had you in the back of my head most of the time when I was writing it."

"Oh, really?" Wanda asked, lips quirked. "What was I like?"

"Much nicer. Less apt to smack me, in other words." His grin turned rakish. "Not as good of a kisser, though."

"I'm sure the other me is quite jealous."

"Oh, naturally." John nodded, letting go of her hand to grab her around the waist.

"We're never going to get him at this rate," Wanda murmured into his neck.

"Which is good, since Tabitha would totally get off on this." Wanda snorted. "What? You know I'm right."

"Oh, shut up!"

(Props to Morlock, again. Technically, this is late, but what's fourty-five-odd minutes between friends? Besides, you'll like the next chapter. -WEG- Next time: The Museum Trip!)

(1) A syzygy (pronounced sih-zih-gee) is a planetary alignment (in astronomy, anyway), usually used in reference to when the sun, earth, and moon (or possibly a different planet) line up. It can also refer to other planets doing the same thing (Morlock originally suggested Jupiter and its moons, but I didn't want to misspell things). She has mentioned that lunar eclipses last several hours, and I knew that, but I prefer my way. Just because.

(2) …That was complete bollocks that sounds like it should work. I haven't been to an observatory since I was nine.


	35. The Museum Trip

Disclaimer: "I've been meaning to do that for so long, Gariella. Now you know how I truly feel."

(An: And the random randomness ensues… ah, well, it'll be fun, at least. The reason I couldn't upload this until Sunday was because I got dragged off to a friend's house, and I didn't want to have to make this chapter all shoddy. I was going to change the update schedule because I go back to school on Tuesday, but I decided not to bother because the next couple of chapters came so easily. I may add the next chapter for a lark later, since techically it's not quite Sunday yet.)

The Museum Trip (Is Syngenella a Woman Yet?)

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-" gasp, "-AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!"

That was what John and Wanda woke up to the next morning. The horrified screaming was Pietro, of course, who had just discovered John and Wanda asleep on the couch (since the stairs had been too arduous at about two in the morning). Wanda didn't stir, but John blearily opened one eye, commenting, "I didn't know Tabby was into chicks…" He threw the closest object (one of Wanda's earrings) at the offender, got more comfortable on the couch, and shut his eyes again.

There was a clunk, a loud "Ow!", and then Pietro zipped to the back of the couch, staring down at the couple. "Wanda!" he cried, after goggling at them for a few seconds. "What- what- what-?" He shook his head in disbelief.

"Pietro, shut up," Wanda mumbled, moving more on top of John. "We're trying to sleep here."

"But you! With- with _him_!" Pietro threw his hands in the air. "_Why_?"

"Jesus, 'Tro, learn to talk," said Tabby, sliding down the banister and walking up beside him. She glanced down at John and Wanda and raised an eyebrow. "Although, I gotta admit, same question's on my mind. What's the logic behind your hookup?" She poked Wanda.

"Isn't _anyone_ going to let us sleep?" John groaned, throwing an arm over his eyes.

"Logic?" Wanda asked, looking up.

Tabitha slung a possessive arm around Pietro (something that just served to confuse him further). "Well, Speedy and I don't delude ourselves that it's any more than 'I'm hot, you're hot, so let's make out'," she replied with a shrug. Pietro, glad to have something to latch onto, nodded fervently. "So is this 'I'm crazy, you're crazy'?" She paused, then added, looking rather worried, "Please, for the safety of us all, never have children." (1)

John jerked up, nearly knocking Wanda off the couch. "Wha-?"

"Yeah, _now_ you wake up," Wanda sighed. She rubbed her eyes. "Come on, John." She tugged on his arm. "Let's go upstairs."

"But-!" cried Pietro.

"'I'm crazy, you're crazy' is a pretty good explanation," Wanda yawned, pulling John off the couch. He followed her, blinking the sleep away.

They were about halfway up the stairs when John's cellphone rang. He blinked, pausing. It took him a minute to process the sound. Then he groped around in his pockets and pulled it out. "Yeah?" After a moment, he looked at his watch. "Shit! I totally forgot, Rem. We'll be there ASAP."

"We?" Wanda asked. "I thought Remy only invited you."

"Yeah, but Kitty and Pete are just going to be sucking face all night, and Remy and Rogue… well, I'd like to survive the night with all of my limbs, thankyouverymuch."

Wanda yawned and started for the door with him. "Do I get to know where we're headed _this_ time?"

John smirked. "Hell no, sheila. Half the fun is that annoyed look you get on your face when I don't tell you."

Wanda made a disgusted noise but went with him anyway.

O-o-O-o-O

This time, John took her to the Bayville museum. Remy was sitting on a bench and holding a cigarette out of Rogue's reach, and Piotr and Kitty were sitting on an adjacent bench and shaking their heads at the pair. "_Chere_," Remy was saying, "if I have to wait for John, I'm not going to be bored _and_ nicotene-deprived."

John put a finger to his lips and took a few steps closer to Remy. He gestured at the lit end of the smoke and made a little hand waving hello. Remy looked at it, and a slow grin stole across his face. Rogue used his distraction to snatch the cigarette and stamped it out. Remy made a face at her and said, "John, get over here so I can kill you."

"Why me?" John demanded, lazily strolling over with Wanda in tow.

"Because killing you wouldn't be a crime to humanity, and _someone_ has to pay for the loss of my smoke." He tapped another one out of the pack, only to have Rogue knock it out of his hands.

"No smoking inside the museum," she chirped. Her voice was decidedly Kitty-esque, but her smirk was pure evil.

Remy sighed, pocketing the cigarettes with a "You'll pay later" look. Wanda backed off, an amused look on her face. He got up and smacked John upside the head. John made a face at him as Piotr stood up and patted John where Remy had hit him. "I hate being the short one," John mumbled as Piotr put an arm around his shoulders.

"It means you are easy to travel with. You fit in most overhead compartments," said Piotr, smiling.

"Or that it's easy to hide the body," Remy grumbled.

"Ah, you didn't even need a smoke anyway. You just wanted to piss off Rogue," John replied.

Remy shrugged since he couldn't deny it.

Rogue made an annoyed noise. "Are you guys going to give us something to stare at, or are we going inside?"

Remy made a sort of "If the lady wishes" gesture, grabbed John by the shirtfront and kissed him square on the lips.

John shoved him away, rubbing furiously at his mouth. "Gah! Perv boy!" He shook his head, looking disgusted. "I don't care if you swing that way, but please, swing _far_ away from me."

"Beautiful Syngenella," said Remy solemnly, and Piotr nodded. (2)

John crossed his arms and stuck his tongue out at Remy. "You taste like those damn cancer sticks."

"I _thought_ it was open-mouth," Rogue commented.

John went very red and made a furious move at Remy, who remarked, "Syngenella has quite a temper."

"If you're going to make moves on Syngenella," Wanda replied, stepping over by John, "then at least have the decency to tape it for me."

Remy paused, raised an eyebrow, and got the feral grin of a predator who's just found a better target. "So is Syngenella a women yet?"

In the background, Rogue made a disgusted noise. "They're going to be here all day. Come on, Kit. Maybe we'll get to see _some_ of the pretty pictures before they get us kicked out."

"Wait for me!" Piotr cried, jumping out of Remy's reach.

(Just for the record, John and Wanda didn't go all the way. Not yet. -WEG- Next Time: Criminal Record!)

(1) I may love Tabietro to death, but that doesn't mean I ever see them as the commitment type. Nah, I see it more as a "whenever they're both in town" sort of thing. God knows I'd be scared if they ever had children…

(2) Joke from _Dreamcatcher_ by Stephen King. The book is WTF-ish but nevertheless a good read.


	36. Criminal Record

Disclaimer: "To me, bullshit is like breathing."

(An: It wasn't technically Sunday, and I'm bored. So you get another chapter. This whole one is based on a real experience. The museum exhibits/"smooth" escape bits, anyway. The romantic awkwardness is all fiction.)

Criminal Record (Like a Slap in the Face)

Five minutes later, and they were all inside the museum. "Syngenella" was still not in a good mood with Remy, but after the fifth time Piotr had told them to shut up, they had listened. Piotr himself was in a rapturous mood, trailing through the galleries with Kitty. He looked, Wanda thought, much like John had at the lighter store. But this was probably his idea of heaven; the museum was featuring art from different countries, grouped into separate galleries. Currently, they were wandering through the Greek room.

Rogue, however, couldn't keep her mind on the paintings; she was feeling too out of place. Her eyes kept wandering to Kitty and Piotr's clasped hands, or to the comfortable arm John had around Wanda. And then, inevitably, her traitorous gaze would turn to Remy. She was certain she had caught him staring at her, as well, and that only made it worse. She wanted to ask Remy if it was possible to be a sixth wheel, but she knew what his reply would be, and she was pretty sure that violence would get her "escorted" from the building.

When they walked out of the Greek room and into the main hallway, Remy murmured, "Wanna ditch 'em?"

"I thought you'd never ask," Rogue hissed. "They're both sweet couples and all, but I think I'm gonna throw up."

Remy nodded, looking at her oddly. When she raised an eyebrow, he shook his head, looking amused, and pointed at a closed door a bit down the way. It was in the opposite direction from where the other four were headed, but Rogue doubted they'd notice Remy and Rogue if they performed a striptease to the theme from the Godfather series. And anyway, when Rogue saw the sign above it she instantly wanted to go in. It was labeled "Southern USA". The "Northern USA" exhibit was right next to it, but who cared about that? "Why is the door shut, though?" Rogue asked.

"Who cares?" Remy replied as they started for it.

"Well, none of the other doors are shut…"

"If it's locked, no harm no foul. If it ain't…" Remy shrugged. "Maybe they're purists."

Rogue snorted and gestured for Remy to try the door. It opened easily, and Remy replied with a gesture of his own, as if to say, "You see?" Rogue shrugged, conceding the point, and they walked inside.

"…Is this a joke?" Remy asked, after a moment. They were in a bare, white room. It looked and smelled like it had just been repainted. 

"Maybe it's modern art…?" Rogue suggested. "Come on, let's see if there's anything in the next room."

But the adjacent room was just the same. "Huh. I guess the doors were closed 'cause they haven't actually set up this part of the gallery yet…"

"Why was the door unlocked, then?" 

Rogue shrugged. "I don't see anything worth stealing, do you?"

"Good point."

Rogue looked around the room, then started for the next one. She paused at the door. "Hey, there's some paintings in this one," she commented, pointing inside. "I don't think they're all hung up yet, though."

She started into the room, ignoring Remy's, "_Chere_, maybe that ain't-" She took two steps inside and set off an alarm, a loud, angry beep. "A good idea," Remy muttered, facepalming.

"Come on, swamp rat, run!" She dashed for the back exit, grabbing his hand. The two of them sprinted through another empty room and through another door, finding themselves in a completely different part of the museum.

Nobody seemed to have noticed their hasty entrance (or the alarm, which was still going in the background), so Remy scooted over by a painting and dropped Rogue's hand in favor of an arm around her waist. "Act natural," he whispered in her ear.

"Then let go of me, or I'm _naturally_ going to have to kill you," Rogue snapped back.

"I ain't the one who started it," Remy answered, in that flirty whisper Rogue _knew_ he used just to annoy her.

Rogue hit him, making sure it was discreet. She stepped out of reach. "That was because I could live without your criminal record, swamp rat."

"For what? All we did was go in there. We didn't touch anything."

"Yeah, but neither of us are exactly popular with the police. We're X-men, remember? And the prof will probably leave us in there for a coupla months just to teach us to stay on the right side of the law."

Remy chuckled softly. "Talk about overreacting… _chere_, this is one of those things we're going to look back on and laugh at later on."

"Yeah. From our cells."

Remy rolled his eyes and gave up on reasoning with her. "So where are we now?"

Rogue shrugged. "I dunno about you, but I was thinking more about booking than where I was going…" She glanced around. "Looks like the Chinese room. Come on, let's go find the others."

"Hey, I was enjoying being alone with you, _chere_," Remy replied, although he followed willingly enough.

Rogue looked at him over her shoulder. "Why?"

Remy snorted. "Ain't it obvious?"

"All I do is insult you."

"So does everyone else. You at least manage to insult me _and_ be unbelievably gorgeous at the same time."

"Don't you have anything better to do than hit on me?"

"…No, not really."

Rogue sighed as they walked back into the main hallway. "I don't know why I put up with you, swamp rat, I really don't."

"All of our other friends activate your gag reflex. It's the 'down with love' thing you've got."

"Whoever said I was down on love?" Rogue demanded, stopping short and whirling to look him in the face.

Remy crossed his arms. For once, he wasn't smirking; rather, he had a small, amused smile. "It's kinda obvious, Rogue. You get disgusted at the slightest bit of sap in a movie, and you can't stand watching couples interact."

Rogue glared at him. "Ever considered that seeing what I can't have is like a slap in the face?"

Remy shrugged. "Yeah, but you get mad even if it's a situation where they're not touching, like whenever Scott calls Jean at college and finishes off with 'love you', or whenever Kurt talks to Amanda."

This only served to intensify Rogue's passion; if the fire in her eyes had been real, the museum would have been cinders. "Again, it's like a slap in the face. I can't have that, Remy, and I probably won't ever be able to."

"Who says you can't have a relationship?" Remy replied. He moved closer, so their noses were almost touching. "Sure, you can't do some of the fun stuff, but Jean and Scott seem to do just fine without that, don't you think?"

Under different circumstances, the jibe at Jean and Scott's (nonexistant) sex life would have made Rogue laugh, but now it only made her uncomfortable, since, as much as she wanted to deny it, Remy had a point. "So?"

Remy made a disgusted noise, stepping back. "Why do you _always_ have to be so stubborn?"

"What does that have to do with anything?" Rogue replied, mostly for an answer than out of true perplexion. She knew where the conversation was headed, and she hated it. An underlying attraction had always been one of the unspoken things in their friendship (Remy's flirting didn't count; Rogue knew he only pulled that crap to piss her off), and even thinking about acting on it… well, the worst part was that it really didn't seem like such a bad deal.

Remy rolled his eyes. "Don't bullshit a bullshitter, _chere_. You know exactly what I'm talking about."

Rogue looked him over for a moment, then said,"You tell me what you were so upset about on the roof, and I'll tell you what I think about dating you."

"Guess I'll have to wait to find out, then," Remy shrugged. Before Rogue could say anything, he said, "Hey, there's Syngenella."

Rogue sighed and walked over.

(Bwahah. I bet you thought this chapter was about Remy's past. Shot down! I really hadn't intended this story to have so much Romy… I like the pairing, I'm just suspicious of it in this story. Next Time: Late Night Diners!)


	37. Late Night Diners

Disclaimer: "I am not possessive. I just wonder how you can call him cute when he's dressed in fishnets and lingerie, not to mention that 80s electric blue eyeshadow."

(An: And more randominity… the next chapter has plot-ish stuff, I promise… and yes, I -do- use the same place to eat in every fic. It's a me thing.)

Late Night Diners (If I Say Yes, Will You Let Me Sleep?)

The group stayed in the museum until it closed. So at about 10:05, they were all sitting inside the Acoustic Café. Wanda was half-conscious and slumped over the table, John was looking drowsy, Remy and Rogue were talking normally enough but avoiding each other's gaze, and Kitty and Piotr were arguing Renaissance vs. Impressionist.

Rogue glanced over at Wanda. "Is she alive?" she whispered to John. She had ended up sitting next to him, since he was still sore about the "Syngenella" incident.

John smiled, rubbing Wanda's back. "We just had a late night twice in a row, is all." Remy coughed and, when John looked at him, shrugged. John made a face. "We were at the observatory, dumbass."

"So, are you two, like, dating now?" Kitty asked, distracted from her debate by the prospect of details.

John frowned and prodded Wanda. "Oi, sheila. Are we dating?"

"If I say yes," Wanda mumbled, "will you let me sleep?"

"Sure, why not."

"Then take me, I'm yours," she drawled, resting her head on his shoulder and closing her eyes.

"Bangin'."

"What did I tell you about saying that?" John opened his mouth, but Wanda replied, "Nevermind, just shut up so I can rest."

Remy eyed them skeptically. "_Dieu_, never have children."

"Why does everyone _say_ that?" John demanded.

"Magic-endowed firebugs with loose trigger fingers. What part of that sounds like a good idea?" Rogue asked, playing with her napkin.

John paused as though he hadn't considered this. "Damn, good point." He leaned back in his seat with a shrug. Wanda groaned in frustration and set her head in his lap. John looked down at her with a bemused expression and decided to swallow his comment, settling for stroking her hair.

Kitty rolled her eyes. She seemed to honestly miss the irony in being disgusted by John and Wanda's blatant affection. "So…" she said, turning on Rogue with a nasty grin. "Where did you guys disappear to?"

"You mean you noticed?" Rogue asked.

"What, you were expecting us to overlook your absence?"

Rogue and Remy exchanged glances. "Well… yeah," they said in unison.

Kitty snorted. "As if. Are you going to tell me or not?"

"_Petite_, you probably wouldn't believe us if we did," Remy replied.

"And if there're any repercussions, you'll be the first to know," Rogue agreed.

Kitty paused, raising an eyebrow. She studied Remy suspiciously. It was reminiscent of Logan when he'd had his beer stolen. "Are you guys saying what I, like, think you're saying? God, Remy!"

Rogue and Remy looked at her, then back at each other. Remy's lips twitched; Rogue choked. There was a moment's pause, and then both of them burst out laughing.

"What is so _funny_ about not using protection? I mean, I guess you guys must have gotten pretty creative-" she gestured vaguely at Rogue's gloves, "but still! Ew!"

This just sent the pair off again.

Wanda moaned and shifted, trying to block out their laughter. John blanched. In a strangled voice, he said, "Quit wiggling like that, sheila!"

"They're all _insane_…" Kitty mumbled.

Piotr patted her shoulder. "Think of it this way, Kitty- it makes us look so much better in comparison."

Kitty groaned and hid her face in her hands.

(Um, short, yeah, but… -shrug- I didn't have anything planned for it besides indignant Kitty. Next Time: Remy's Story!)


	38. Remy's Story

Disclaimer: "You don't accidentally become an ass. It takes quite a bit of work."

(An: And this time I'm not just screwing with you. Aren't you glad? This stuff is straight canon for the most part, Evo-ized a bit.)

Remy's Story (Promise Not to Judge Me?)

It had taken a while to convince Kitty that Remy and Rogue had done nothing reprehensible, but somehow the group managed to beat curfew. Kitty and Piotr had headed up to bed, but Remy and Rogue were sitting on opposite ends of the couch.

"So we both agree that Logan never, ever finds out what happened in the museum?" Rogue asked.

"_Chere_, the badger already wants to gut me. Why would I give him more initiative?"

"Point taken."

Remy yawned and stretched across the couch, so his head was by Rogue and his legs were hanging over the armrest. "You know, I was serious before," he commented, sounding sleepy.

"So was I."

"You're really not giving up on that?" Rogue looked down into his face and shook her head. Remy closed his eyes and laughed softly. "What else was I expecting?" Remy scooted back a little bit so his head was in her lap. Rogue raised an eyebrow. "If I'm going to tell you, I may's well be comfortable, _non_?" Rogue made a disgusted noise, but she let him stay. "Mind you," he murmured, "I'm only letting you in on this 'cause I'm half-asleep." He paused, then added in a much smaller voice, "Promise not to judge me?"

"We've all had our bad times, Rem."

"Yeah, but most people's don't get someone killed." Rogue looked down at him again, and he nodded. He closed his eyes for a moment. "Genevieve Darcenaux. Storm brought her to mind 'cause I walked in on her stealing something. 'Course, it was Gennie who caught _me_, but it's similar enough, _ne c'est pas_? And I was already thinking of her because… well." He reached up and found one of her hands, twining his fingers with hers. "I was… eighteen? _Oui_, that sounds right. She was sixteen. Gal was a prodigy- she'd stolen _l'Etoile du Tricherie_, the Cheating Star. It's a very big diamond, so my father sent me to… relieve her of it.

"We met in Paris- ran into each other 'accidentally'. Gennie knew me by reputation, and I got her to tell me where she was staying, and then I got _mon frére_, Henri, to distract her for a bit so I could look for it. She came in on me going through her things- knew exactly what I was looking for, of course. She asked if I thought she was really stupid enough to leave the Star where someone could find it..." He trailed off.

"Rem? You awake?"

Remy's lips twitched. "I'm conscious, _chere_… this ain't a good bedtime story. Just wondering how to go on without you getting huffy."

"Huffy?"

"Well, considering the terms of our agreement, it probably won't sound good- won't sound good anyway, but still- that I spent the next couple of weeks seducing her so I could pocket it when she wasn't paying attention."

"LeBeau! …You're right. I _am_ feeling huffy now."

"Told you, _chere_." Remy yawned again, and his face darkened a little bit. "Well, it worked. I stole the Star while she was sleeping. I planned to ditch town with it… but… When I got back to my apartment, Henri was missing. I found a note that told me to go to Notre Dame.

"Turns out that I'd saved Gennie's life that first day… the Cheating Star's owner wanted it back, and he hired Sabretooth to get it. But me hanging out with her so much put a serious wrench in the works. So he kidnapped both of them while I was away… found him on top of the church. He had 'em both tied up and was holding them over the river." He closed his eyes again. "Bastard told me to throw him the Star, 'cept he was a righty, so he'd have to drop the ropes to catch it. The way it was set up, I'd only have time to save one of them."

He sighed. "Gennie was… important to me, but up to that point my relationship with her had just been a game. I saved Henri- I had to, he was getting married in a month, for Christ's sake! But the look on her face when she fell… took me a long time to be able to sleep without seeing it."

"Oh, Rem… So if Sabretooth was on the Acolytes, why did you join them?"

"Didn't know he was there when I entered into the contract. It was just another nasty surprise."

"Is Genevieve what Magneto had on you?"

Remy shook his head, moving further up onto Rogue's lap.

"Well, then, what?" Remy didn't answer for a moment. "You don't have to tell me about it if you don't want to…" She looked down at him.

Remy had a funny, pained smile on his face. "Nothing."

"Huh?"

"He didn't have anything over my head."

"But I thought-"

"I lied, _chere_. I'm very good at that."

Rogue frowned.

"Asked you not to judge me, Rogue. I was messed up after losing Gennie. I didn't wanna go home, definitely didn't wanna stay there… and then, when I was wandering around Paris, I met Magneto. I didn't believe a word he said, but he offered me money and a ticket outta there. Didn't learn 'til later that he wanted terrorists, and it was too late to back out… also, back then, I had a lot less of a conscience. One incident with a _femme_ wasn't enough to change that… two, though…" He squeezed her fingers.

When he didn't say anything for a while, Rogue assumed he'd finished. "Guess I gotta hold up my end, then… Rem?" She looked down again. Remy was asleep, one hand still clutching hers, the other tangled in her shirt. Rogue smiled in spite of herself, shifted into a position that would leave her slightly less stiff in the morning, and drifted off.

(Damn the cuteness! Damn it! …ah, I'm just grumpy because today was my first day back at school. Next time: Breakfast with Logan!)


	39. Breakfast with Logan

Disclaimer: "Have you ever wondered?" "Hmm?" "That maybe things aren't as rosy as they appear to be under the surface?"

(An: Not that this has anything to do with anything, but this is currently at 250 reviews… can we aim for 300? I've never had a story be this popular, is all. Oh, by the way, I heard a lot of people thought this chapter was about Remy catching hell from Logan… it en't, obviously, although that comes around soon enough…)

Breakfast with Logan (I'd Run Him Through if He Tried)

Kitty, as usual, woke up early the next morning. She stuck her head in Piotr's room, to find her boyfriend still asleep. _I'll save a cinnamon roll for him,_ she vowed as she went downstairs.

Remy and Rogue were still asleep on the couch together in the common room. Kitty cocked her head, studying them curiously. _What is _up_ with them?_ Adding bugging Rogue to her mental to-do list, she walked into the kitchen.

Like always, Logan was the only one up that early in the middle of summer. Kitty loved her breakfasts with Logan; it was pretty much the only time she got alone with him. "Morning!" Kitty chirped, phasing her head into the cupboards to find herself the good cereal.

"Pretty early, Half-pint," Logan commented from behind his newspaper.

She paused in digging around for a bowl to look at him. Ordinarily, all she could get out of him was a grunt, or, if it were a good day, a "morning" in return. "Not any earlier than usual…"

"For the late night you had, I mean."

Kitty poured her cereal, frowning. "I stay up later all the time… is this about barely making curfew? 'Cause that was an accident; we just, like, lost track of time."

"I know, Half-pint. Ain't about that."

"Well, then, what is it about?" Kitty asked, joining him at the table. Her usual spot was across from him, but she took the chair beside his, since they were actually talking for once.

"Every time you get in late, it's 'cause of him."

Kitty paused mid-bite. "You mean Piotr?"

"No, I mean the Queen." Kitty glanced at him. "Of course I mean him, Half-pint."

She set down her spoon and looked Logan in the face. "What're you getting at, Mr. Logan?"

He folded the newspaper and crossed his arms before replying. "I just wanted to know what you do with that guy so late," he grunted. His expression made it clear that he didn't think it was anything good.

"You don't honestly think- Me and Piotr? Doing stuff like _that_? I mean, we've been together a while, but I was with Lance for over a year and we never… _did_ anything."

"That's 'cause you know I'd run him through if he tried."

"Well, yeah, but I'm only sixteen, Mr. Logan. I know he's really serious about me-"

"Which is what I'm worried about, Half-pint."

"Mr. Logan, he still blushes whenever I kiss him. Going any further than that would probably give him a heart attack."

"He's older than you, Kitty, and I just… I just don't want you to do anything you don't want to."

Kitty blinked."…You mean this isn't the Virgin Alarm talking?"

Logan snorted. "Half-pint, I do trust you in that respect. But you're young. It's easy for you to believe you might be… well, in love with this guy when you're not. And you might do something you'll regret later on, even if you think it's what you want right now."

Kitty stared at him. She'd never gotten such a candid speech out of Logan- yeah, he was adamant that no girls were getting pregnant on his watch, but he'd never admitted that he cared more about their feelings than possible lawsuits. She looked at her hands, unsure of how to respond. "I… I never thought about it that way, Mr. Logan. I know he really cares for me, but I've… I haven't really figured out what I feel about him. I don't really think we're gonna break up anytime soon, but I don't know if he's the guy I wanna… you know." She met his eyes. "But I do know that Piotr would never force me into something I didn't want. Even if I _did_ want it, I'd probably have to phase naked into his room to convince him." Logan raised an eyebrow, and Kitty blushed. "Not- not that I would, or anything. I'm just saying."

Logan frowned for a moment, then shrugged. "I believe you, Half-pint… I just want you to be careful, that's all."

Kitty smiled at him. "I know, Mr. Logan."

He grunted, picking up his newspaper and walking out. Kitty shrugged, turning back to her cereal. _Well, he won't be talking to me for a month after _that_ speech… Gotta, like, keep up appearances and stuff._

(I love writing Kitty and Logan. Next time: Niggling!)


	40. Niggling

Disclaimer: "You know, I've been thinking." "I really wish you'd stop doing that."

(An: I think that Kitty only goes full out Valley Girl when she's nervous because I'm prone to Valley Girl when I'm unsettled. So, yeah, bear with the "like"s… I've probably mentioned that before, but if I don't remember, you probably don't either. Oh, btw, Goldylokz mentioned that she got a "URL outdated" thing when she tried to read the last chapter… that's happened a lot to me too. If it does, try hitting refresh or going back and reclicking the link. Damn bugs…)

Niggling (Guess I'm Not too Fluent in Valley Girl)

Kitty, still unsettled by Logan's chat with her, stole a cinnamon roll when the others began to filter downstairs and headed back upstairs. She knocked on Piotr's door- considering the circumstances, it'd be even more embarrassing than usual to walk in on him changing.

"It's open," came his voice.

Kitty smiled, stepping inside. "Brought you breakfast," she said, pointing out the pastry with weird shyness.

"Thanks." He took it and began picking it apart. "Have you seen Remy? He did not return to the room last night."

She grinned, sitting on his desk. "He's with Rogue."

Piotr raised an eyebrow.

"They're sleeping on the couch together." Kitty folded her arms. "And I bet if I asked them about it, they'd just laugh and crack a joke about whatever they did last night."

Piotr nodded. "I know Remy cares about her very much, but I can never get a straight answer out of him. Perhaps Rogue managed it." When she didn't reply for a few minutes, Piotr looked at her. "Kitty? Is something wrong?"

Kitty's smile was distracted. "Sorry, Piotr… I just- I have something to do." She phased through his desk and to the floor below, leaving Piotr to blink at the spot she vacated and wonder if it'd been something he'd said.

O-o-O-o-O

Downstairs, Remy and Rogue were finally waking up. The clamor in the kitchen made Remy open one sleepy eye. It took him a moment to process where he was. When he figured it out, he nearly fell off the couch. "_Dieu_…" he breathed. "Rogue?"

She groaned- _Probably stiff as hell, considering the way she fell asleep_- and blinked. "Oh, hell," she muttered. "Get off me, swamp rat. I can't feel my legs."

Remy sat up, looking around. He thought no one had seen them… until he spotted Kitty leaning in the doorway. "_Merde_…"

Rogue rubbed the sleep from her eyes and followed his gaze. "How is she _always_ here?"

"Girl's like a bloodhound for gossip… morning, _petite_. Don't suppose there's any bribe that'll make you let things lie?"

Kitty, however, didn't seem to be in the mood for snooping. "Actually, I just wanted to talk to you, Remy." She raised an eyebrow at Rogue. "Not that I'm not, like, happy for you guys or whatever, but I want to talk to him _alone_."

"We're not together," said Remy and Rogue in unison.

"…Friends with benefits?" Kitty asked, scratching her head.

Kitty's confusion about Rogue and Remy's "status" was understandable, but it only served to exacerbate Rogue's bad mood. She had planned to escape before Remy could wake up, so he'd think her sentiment was only a dream. It'd give her more time to think over how, exactly, to respond to him. "We're not together at all, and why are you suddenly so certain that I've found a way around my powers? I haven't, and just 'cause I'm a teenager doesn't mean that _that_ would be the first thing I do!"

She started for the kitchen, but Remy caught her arm. "Never did hold up your end, _chere_."

Rogue jerked out of his grip. "Did too, swamp rat. Ain't my fault if you weren't listening." She disappeared into the kitchen without another word.

"Her end of what?" Kitty asked.

Remy shook his head, looking disappointed. "Nothing, _petite_. What do you want?"

"It's about Piotr. I figured I'd ask you, since you're still, like, the only person he talks to." Her speech slowly becoming more hyper and nervous, she told him about Logan and her persistant confusion.

When she finished, Remy folded his arms, leaning against the back of the couch. "Isn't Pete the one you should be telling this to, _petite_?"

Kitty rubbed the back of her neck, looking away. "I know, but I don't want him to get, like, worried about the state of our relationship. I totally want to stay with him. I'm just not too sure what I want for… you know. The future and stuff."

Remy's lips twitched. "You mean when you're not jailbait anymore?"

Kitty smacked him. "No! I mean, like, after graduation."

"Oh, right. Guess I'm not too fluent in Valley Girl." Kitty made a threatening move toward him, but Remy held up his hands in surrender.

"See, I just wanted to know if he'd, like, said anything about that sort of… stuff." She gestured vaguely at herself.

"_Petite_, I can assure you that he's even worse about talking about this subject than you are."

Kitty made a face at him. "Only because we aren't manwhores."

"I don't know where that rumor got started, but it ain't true, dammit!"

Kitty's look expressed a _tiny_ bit of doubt, but she didn't pursue the manner. "Are you, like, sure?"

"Kitty, the boy's crazy for you. Whatever you want to do, he'll go along with it. I suggest you tell him straight what you want, all right? …But approach the subject gently. We don't want you giving my roomate a heart attack, _non_?"

Kitty giggled a trifle hysterically. "Like, duh."

"Now go do something that'll make you comfortable so I can understand you," said Remy, shoving her forward.

(Now, to warn you, I'm BS-ing the next three chapters. I had another small story arc planned, but things have come to a head among our couples rather fast… Next time: A Hostage Situation!)


	41. A Hostage Situation

Disclaimer: "I wanted so badly to be jaded at Stuy. I wanted to walk around slumped over, mumbling cynically to myself, proving that even at age fourteen I'd been there, done that."

(An: I bet you thought this chapter was going to be all serious! So ha! Apparently, I completely brain-blanked and didn't post this chapter last night... I thought I did, but I didn't. Sorry!)

A Hostage Situation (I've Paid Your Ransom, Now Give Me My Waffles!)

While Kitty was contemplating the state of her relationship, Wanda was just waking up. There was only one thing strong enough to lure her from sleep and John's warm arms: the smell of waffles. Not the frozen kind, either. Freshly-made ones. Shoving a pillow into John's arms when he groped around for her, she wandered downstairs.

Pietro was sitting at the kitchen table, a plate of waffles in front of him. Wanda reached for it, but he zipped away and perched on the counter, holding the platter. _Damn, he knows my weakness._ "What do you want?"

"What's up with you and John?"

Wanda crossed her arms, glaring at him. "You know, I could just hex those out of your hands…"

"And risk me dropping them? Never."

Wanda humphed. "Ok, _why_ do you want to know?"

"He's a thug, Wanda. You're not actually… you know, _serious_ about him, are you?"

"Unlike you, Pietro," Wanda answered in a dangerously quiet voice, "I don't kiss people for fun. I like John."

"How much?"

"None of your damn business."

"_How much_?"

"A lot," Wanda mumbled, looking away.

"For God's sake, why?"

"I'd ask you why you date the girls you do, except that I'm not going with John just to prove a point or because he's hot."

"Those aren't the reasons I'm dating Tabby now," Pietro pointed out, setting the waffles aside and looking slightly offended.

"Oh, right, sorry. I'm not dating him because he's a good lay."

"Wanda!" Pietro spluttered.

"Relax. I wouldn't know."

"Damn straight you wouldn't! If I knew that- that _Australian_ had his hands on my sister-!" He strangled the air, unable to articulate his feelings further.

"For your information," said Wanda, in the tone she'd used before, the "Stop talking soon, or your face will soon become friendly with the wall" voice, "I want to. But we've only been together three days… barely."

Pietro crossed his arms. Wanda opened her mouth, but he cut her off. "I don't wanna whatever insult you've got to tack onto that…" He sighed, and in a less nasty voice than usual, said, "Wanda, he used to be one of Pietro's goons. I just don't want you to get hurt."

Wanda snorted. "Sentiment? From you? Don't you have some kittens to kick or something?"

Pietro looked appalled. "Not funny, sis."

Wanda propped her chin on her fist, looking throughtful. "Father made him. And even though he did do some bad stuff, it doesn't matter. John loves me, and he's sweet and funny… He's just.." She shrugged. "I don't know."

"I get it," Pietro agreed, swinging his legs. "Believe it or not, there is more to me than dashing good looks."

"What, like your embarrassingly big libido?"

Pietro stuck out his tongue. "You _know_ what I mean. I have a soul, you know."

"I know you do. I always figured you sold it long ago. I always suspected it was to the devil, but you probably gave it to Father- it's pretty much same difference."

Pietro sighed in disgust. "What do I have to do to make you consider me a human?"

Wanda tapped her lips with a finger. "Hmm, I dunno… be someone else?"

"Something I can actually _do_, Wanda."

"Giving me the waffles would be a good start."

"No! They're my only edge here… that, and the hope that I can run faster than a hex bolt…"

"How about walking naked into school?"

Pietro opened his mouth, then paused. "I was going to say 'been there, done that', but that's not a good answer, is it?"

Wanda huffed and stood up. She got up and poked him in the chest. "Pietro, why the hell are you doing this? …Did Father find out about me and John?"

Pietro shuddered. "God, no! I may not like you with John, but even you being with him is better than having to break the news to him." He flicked a nonexistant speck of dust from his shoulder and said, in a very small voice, "You're my sister, that's all. I mean, you may try to kill me on a regular basis, but I still care about you, and I want you to be happy."

"And isn't it obvious that I'm happy with John?" Wanda snapped, crossing her arms.

"Well, yeah, but there's the whole Dad thing… I don't trust him."

"Pietro, what you seem to keep forgetting is that _you_ ally yourself with Dad."

"That's different. He's family, and he's got that, 'if you're not for me, you're against me', complex. It's much easier to go along with what he says and try to make peace with the fallout."

"And don't you think John might have thought the same thing?"

"…" Pietro, apparently unable to think of a reply, made a face.

Wanda beamed at him. "I've paid your ransom, now give me my waffles!"

Pietro heaved an over-dramatic sigh and shoved the plate at her.

"Thanks." She stuck her head in the fridge, balancing the waffles on one hand as she dug around for the syrup. "Aw, you bought real butter, too? You really wanted me to listen, didn't you."

"Well, yeah, and this was the only way I could think of."

"Sneaky," chided Wanda, producing a fork and looking at the waffles with an awe that suggested Jesus had made them as opposed to her freaky twin. Pietro stepped over and, tentatively, patted her shoulder. Wanda paused in her adoration to stare at him, one eyebrow raised.

Pietro got the hint and quickly stepped back out of reach. "I thought we'd, you know, bonded."

"Pietro, you insulted my boyfriend, and I set you straight. That's all. I still think you're the scum of the earth."

Pietro sighed. "I guess I should take it as reassuring that some things never change."

"Oh, dry up," said Wanda, walking out of the kitchen. She paused for a moment, then added, with a small but sincere smile, "Thanks for the food."

(I make sure to only humanize Pietro once or twice a fic… God knows the show never bothered. Next Time: Napalm!)


	42. Napalm

Disclaimer: "Time is what keeps things from happening all at once."

(An: There was no update yesterday because I died. Band performances do that. Don't worry, I've been successfully revived. This chapter is… weird because I was watching a really strange movie.)

Napalm (Smells Like Napalm, Tastes Like Chicken)

Wanda finished her waffles and ditched her dishes. Not that she would ever admit it, but Pietro had brought up some of the things that had always bothered her. She had never talked about her father with John- she'd known instinctively that it was a touchy subject, and anyway, discussing her dad always bothered her. Her memories of a happy childhood with a loving father and brother didn't quite match up with the psychopath who'd unleashed mutants on the world and the annoying twit who squeaked and hid behind furniture whenever she entered a room.

For that matter, the man who laughed hysterically while he sent fire creations after people didn't match the guy who wrote romance novels while fiddling with his goggles.

John was still upstairs in his room. He was awake now, though, bent over his laptop and nibbling a thumbnail as he thought. "Hi, gal," he murmured. "Just a second…" He typed a few more words, looking triumphant. "I love that end of chapter buzz."

Wanda sat down on the bed, back-to-back with John. She leaned back against him and didn't say anything for a moment.

"So what's up, sheila?"

"Can't you ever let a conversation lie for more than five minutes?"

"No, not really. Gotta give me a reason to let your jewelry poke me in the back, Wanda."

Wanda shifted. "That better?"

"Yeah, fine." And thirty seconds later… "So what's up?"

Wanda sighed in disgust. "I talked to Pietro."

"And he's still breathing?"

"Unless he had a heart attack in the ten-odd minutes that I last talked to him…"

"Good God, are you feeling all right?" John twisted around and felt for her forehead. "Or did hell finally freeze over?"

Wanda swatted him away. "I'm _fine_. He bribed me with waffles to make me listen."

"Oh, ok." John leaned his head on her shoulder.

"Are you trying to drive me insane?"

John shrugged. "You're not telling me whatever is bothering you, so I'm annoying you into it."

Wanda groaned. "He brought up your past, ok? I didn't want to talk about it because… well…I know it's not a comfortable subject for you… Or for me, for that matter."

John sighed.

Wanda looked at her watch. "You have four minutes to prove my previous statement incorrect…"

"Shh, I'm thinking."

"About what to say?"

John shook his head. Wanda felt it rather than saw it. "Of a grand gesture so I won't have to say anything." He paused, then backed up. Wanda looked around and watched him get off the bed.

"What-?"

John held up his hands, one finger tapping his lips. "I can't remember where I put it…"

"What?"

John looked over his shoulder and grinned at her. "It's me. Think a moment and ask that question again with a straight face, I dare you."

"Is it something highly dangerous and flammable?"

"Bingo!" John looked around and grabbed at a chest on the floor. "In here!" He opened it and dug around inside, coming up with a small carton. "Styrofoam and gasoline and just an itty-bitty portion of benzene." (1) 

"Which means…?"

"Smells like napalm, tastes like chicken." (2)

"…You have napalm?"

"Still hanging around from my tour of duty. I didn't like using it- harder to control, messier, more painful if I let it burn me, all of that. Now then…" He glanced around and grabbed his old lighter off his desk. He started for the door, but he paused when he noticed she wasn't following. "Well, come on, this won't mean much if you don't see it…" Wanda opened her mouth, but John shook his head. "Is it _really_ Ask a Stupid Question Day already?" (3)

Wanda made a face at him and went outside with him. He went out to the backyard and pulled Avarice from his pocket. He used a small flame to clear off a patch of dirt and set Cecelia on it. He opened the carton, slopping a small amount of clear jelly on the lighter, the flame hovering around him. He sighed, standing back. "It's too bad that it doesn't keep better, but it doesn't burn as well when it oxidizes." Wanda raised an eyebrow. "What?" She shook her head.

"So what, exactly, are you going to do with it?"

John grabbed her arm and pulled her back a couple of feet. "This stuff is really not environmentally friendly, but… well…" He gestured, and the small flame drifted down to the jelly. There was a loud "phwumph" noise as a giant fireball replaced the lighter.

After a few minutes of watching the flames, Wanda looked at her watch again. "Wow, good run."

"It'll go for a while yet. Lotta bang for your buck."

Wanda nodded. "So Cecelia was your Acolyte lighter?"

John grinned. "Sheila, there is your grand gesture. Sometimes, you burn bridges. Other times, you have to napalm them. I'm not doing shit like that again, ever." He gestured at the Brotherhood house. "What can I say? Somewhere between the mildew, the week-old pizza, and the gorgeous women, this place has grown on me." He inhaled deeply and almost choked on the smoke. "Ah, I do love the smell of napalm in the morning…" (4)

"Grown on you? Must be like a fungus."

John nodded and put an arm around her waist. He was leaning in to kiss her when a plate whizzed over his head.

"THE _HELL_ ARE YOU GUYS DOING?" Pietro was leaning out of a window, brandishing another plate and apparently unable to express his rage.

"Warning shot," sighed Wanda. "God, Pietro, don't you have anything better to do?"

"The burning- the kissing- BAD!"

"Actually, I kinda like it. My two favorite things right in one spot," said John, beaming at Wanda.

Wanda nodded. "This would have been the most romantic moment of my life if he hadn't showed up… Here, just a second." She let go of John and pushed him away, turning to face Pietro. She cocked her head and bit her lip, flicking a hex bolt at her brother. There was a loud shriek and some shattering, but Wanda ignored it, tackling John.

John kept her at bay with a hand for a second. He gestured, and the fireball went out. "You know, don't wanna burn down-" Wanda shut him up.

(…I think, at some point, I was intending this chapter to turn more serious… but it didn't happen. Ah, well. Next Time: I Know!)

(1) That really is the ingredients for the most commonly used sort of napalm, napalm-B. According to Wikipedia, anyway.

(2) I did NOT make that up; it's a level of some game. I saw the quote on Wikipedia, again, and I just HAD to use it.

(3) Ask a Stupid Question Day is September 28th.

(4) Quote from _Apocalypse Now_.


	43. I Know

Disclaimer: "You call it being blunt, I call it being brutally honest."

(An: BWAHAHAH. This is the Romy chapter.Originally, I was not going to have one… but… well… I like them together, I do. And this idea was just too good to pass up. Oh, by the way, I was originally going to have a chapter about Rogue and Logan… but if Logan objected to Remy, he would have already have made that clear, neh?)

I Know (Only Works on Kitty)

Rogue avoided Remy all morning. She told herself she needed to think, but by noon she was sick of it. She knew what she was really doing- hiding. She had second-guessed herself to the point of insanity. There was nothing more to think about, she just had to do it. _If there's one thing I ain't, it's a coward. Besides, even if he does end up hurting me, heartbreak's supposed to build character._ (1)

The only problem? She couldn't find Remy.

She tried his room. Piotr was painting and didn't notice her come in, but there was no sign of Remy. After about ten minutes more of looking, she retreated to her own room, to find her guitar case lying open on her bed. Chiding herself for being so stupid, Rogue headed up to the roof.

She heard the music before she saw him. Rogue tried to creep along the roof, but his hands still paused on the strings as she came near. "How do you _always_ know?"

Remy smirked without looking up. "Because I do. I _know_."

Rogue rolled her eyes. "The creepy act only works on Kitty, swamp rat."

"Aw, but it's fun." He strummed a chord. "So, what really happened last night?"

"You fell asleep in my lap after you finished your story. I let you live 'cause I was tired. I won't slip up like that again, though, mind you."

Remy grinned. "So you _didn't_ hold up your end of the bargain."

"I decided to wait until you were conscious, swamp rat. Be grateful."

"Oh, you can be sure I am, _chere_." Remy's drawl was overacted, but his eyes were serious. "Gonna tell me now, then?"

"We're going out at seven. Art film or something to mock?"

Remy looked at her. "…_Quoi? Tu as dit_?" (2)

Rogue slapped her forehead in mock-exasperation. "Jesus, for a moment there I actually thought you had a brain. Late night musta really affected me. The answer is _yes_, Remy, I will date you." She clasped her hands under her chin and fluttered her eyelashes. "Take me, I'm yours."

Remy's lips twitched. "Now why can't you say that seriously, hmm?"

"I have to maintain _some_ kind of dignity here," Rogue replied, crossing her arms.

"I think it's overrated, _chere_," Remy purred, reaching for her.

"We ain't that close yet, Rem… and just why do you have my guitar?"

Remy affected a kicked-puppy look. "You were avoiding me, and I needed something pretty for comfort." He patted the neck. "Doesn't come close to you, 'course, but it's something."

Rogue rolled her eyes. "You get the prize."

"For what?"

"Fastest time making me regret a decision."

Remy chuckled softly. "I'm so proud."

"You might not have it for long, though. I've still gotta tell Kitty that I said I'd date you."

"Oh. 'Course. That'd always be worse. But Kitty needs something to cheer her up."

"Logan?"

"Logan."

Rogue shook her head. "She'll be upset all day."

"I told her to go talk to her boyfriend if she was so worried about it," Remy shrugged.

Rogue sighed. "Yeah, but if she doesn't, I'll have to listen to her babble about it all night."

Remy shrugged. "Good point. Piotr will probably just go around with his 'unhappy' face all night." He shook his head, but a small grin appeared. "But we won't have to worry about that."

Rogue blinked. "We won't?"

"Nope. We're going out, remember?"

Rogue grinned back. "Oh, right."

(Shortness! HISS! But I like it, since on the whole I prefer understated Romy. Next time: Simple!)

(1) Certainly you can figure out what Rogue would say. It's in enough fanfics. -rolls eyes-

(2) Basically, "What did you say?" 


	44. Simple

Disclaimer: "It's fun! And a life without sorrow! Feels young! When you think about tomorrow! Say yo! When you're about to freak out!"

(An: And now we finally get back to Kitty and Piotr. This chapter is late because I wanted it to be good and didn't want to have to rush. The last chapter will be out on time… hopefully. Oh, by the way, FFN is doing something really strange... sometimes it shows the latest chapters, sometimes not. I really hope they get it fixed properly soon..)

Simple (Weirdly Badass)

While Kitty hadn't exactly avoided Piotr, she felt rather like she had before they were friends, with one always leaving when the other entered. Except this time, she was the one doing the leaving.

Doing this was bugging the crap out of her, but she just couldn't face him. It would be too awkward asking him about his… intentions.

Besides, they'd only been going together a few months. What if he spooked and dumped her? What if he thought she was too forward? .

What if he thought she was asking because she wanted to?

The last one made her shiver. It wasn't fear, exactly… could it be desire? She really liked Piotr- he was so kind, and his smiles (and kisses) made her heart do funny things. But did she love him? Or would she end up regretting going too far with him?

She skipped dinner in favor of lurking in her room. She hacked a few websites to keep her mind off of things, but nothing doing.

After about ten minutes, she got sick of it and flopped on her bed. She glared at Lockheed, her stuffed dragon, who grinned up at her as usual. "Oh, what're you looking at?" she demanded.

Lockheed, of course, made no reply. 

Kitty pulled a face at it and rolled over to contemplate the ceiling. She made a face at its imposing whiteness as well, and then there was a knock at the door. "It's open!" she called without thinking.

The door opened a crack, and a roll appeared, as if expected to inspect the situation and report back. Piotr's head followed. He was wearing a shy, hopeful smile and balancing a plate on his other hand. "You didn't appear to be coming to the meal, so I brought it to you," he explained, coming in and setting the plate on her desk.

Kitty smiled in spite of herself. "Oh, thank you."

Piotr began to pick apart the roll, leaning against the wall and looking away. "Kitty… did I do something?"

Kitty blinked.

"You've been hiding all day, and I thought it might be because you were angry with me… are you?"

"No! Perish the thought. It's not your fault, Piotr... it's just..." She sighed, shaking her head. "It's something Logan 'talked with' me about this morning." She explained the subject, Piotr looking slightly more dismayed with each word. "I've just... I've been really confused about it all day. I probably should have told you right away, but I've been trying to figure out what I want."

Piotr studied her for a long moment. "And do you know?"

Kitty shook her head, biting her lip and looking away.

Piotr crossed the room in a few short strides. He took her face in his hands. She kept her eyes averted. "Look at me, please." Reluctantly, she did. "You think too much sometimes… this is really so simple." He kissed her softly.

Kitty blinked several times when he pulled back. There was something in the way he was looking at her that made a blush spread across her cheeks. "Um…"

Piotr pressed a finger to her lips. "Kitty, I love you. That's one thing you can always take for granted. But you're young. I don't expect you to know anything… I barely do." He brushed his thumb across her cheek.

"Piotr…" Kitty breathed.

Piotr rolled his eyes. "You talk too much, too."

"Yeah, but we knew that," Kitty replied, glad to have something she could respond to.

Piotr laughed softly and kissed her again. (1)

O-o-O-o-O

"I have to get changed," Rogue said, waving Remy away. The two of them had finally come down from the roof, on the pretense of getting ready for their date.

"Why do you think I'm following you?" This comment earned him a sound smack to the back of the head. Remy grinned anyway. "It was worth it."

"Go be annoying somewhere… else?" Rogue trailed off, peering into her room. Her jaw dropped. "Oh my God!" she shriek-whispered.

Remy slapped a hand over her mouth, spotting what had her so gobsmacked. "_Chere_, this is the part where you shut up and walk away."

Rogue shoved him away, and he got a second smack. "Well, duh," Rogue hissed. "It's just that that image is going to be in my _head_ forever now! And I thought Kitty was the good one here!"

Remy cocked his head and smirked. "So that makes you the _bad_ one? I like that." The smack count went up to three. Remy rubbed his head, wincing. "They say third time's the charm…"

"Yeah, maybe it'll stick this time." Rogue crossed her arms. "Now I can't change…"

"Hey, I think you look fine." Rogue eyed him critically, and Remy shrugged. "I always think you're gorgeous, though, so I guess it's not too objective…"

Rogue rolled her eyes. "For that, you're paying."

"I was paying anyway."

"For dinner, I meant."

"We're going out to dinner?"

"We are now." Rogue rolled her eyes and kicked the door to her room shut.

Kitty and Piotr didn't notice. It wasn't too surprising; they were busy.

"I feel weirdly badass painting my unicorn," Kitty commented. "Maybe it's because we're doing it without permission…?" (2)

Piotr cocked his head, judging his giant-eyed kitty (the one he was painting on the wall, not the girl beside him). "No, I think it's just you." He glanced at Kitty's side of the mural. "It's got such a huge horn…"

"It's not a horn, it's a pervert skewer. Just in case Remy comes in here, you know?"

Piotr snorted.

"What? I want my painting to have a practical use!" She added another highlight to the unicorn's eye. "Five bucks says Rogue'll have painted over this in a week."

"Two days."

"You're on."

(Psych! I bet I -totally- had you all going there. But that would have totally undermind the point of this chapter. Well, anyway, Next Time (or last time, as it were): Lingerie!)

(1) I felt a bit dirty writing that in study hall… but it's probably just me. I always mistrust fluff.

(2) Props to Rahmfan who gave me the idea. -cling-


	45. Lingerie

Disclaimer: "One call it the cursed land. Two call it the spaces between two souls. Three call it a chess game of reality." "For the, ah, metaphorically challenged, does this place have a name?" (1)

(An: Well, here it is, the last chapter. Trippy, neh? This is late because I needed a break. Fixed the HTML... hatehatehate.)

Lingerie (Present)

Several months had passed since the napalm incident, and Wanda was getting quite accustomed to John letting her sleep in. That wasn't the case this morning, however. "Sheila..." John whispered in her ear, poking her in the side. Wanda rolled over, ignoring him. "Sheila!" Wanda lay still. "Oh, fine... _Wanda_. Wake up."

She rolled over to face him. "This had better be important."

"It is! Don't you know what today is?"

"...Annoy Wanda Day?"

"No. That's every day. Today," he said, leaning over so he could look into her eyes, "is my birthday."

Wanda blinked, processing this. "Why don't you ever tell me these things ahead of time?"

"Because. You're simply i stunning /i when you're annoyed... besides, I thought did."

"You didn't."

John leaned back on his heels as Wanda sat up, rubbing the rest of the sleep from her eyes. "Damn. I was coming in here to bug you for my present."

"Well, I still have to buy you one. So shoo."

"But-"

"Scat! I'll get you something good if you leave me alone."

"Oh, fine." John left, and Wanda buried her head under the pillow in the hopes of recapturing her lost sleep.

O-o-O-o-O

"So why are we here?" Rogue asked, looking around the shop.

"It's John's birthday, and he specifically said, 'Get me something kinky,'" Wanda replied, digging through the pile of underwear.

"Yes, that answers why _you_ are here. But why did you drag me along?"

"Advice." She held up and discarded a pair of crotchless panties, looking squicked.

"About what?"

"About what to get him!" Wanda replied, with a "Duh" look. "Do I get something for myself, which by proxy is a gift for him, or do I get something for him directly?"

Rogue responded with a similar look. "You get something for him. Therefore, not only does he get a present, but you get to look at him in it. Easy. Why do you think I got Remy boxers?"

"Because you're a masochist like that? You know, exacerbate the 'look but don't touch' bit?"

Rogue made a face at her friend. "So what is John doing for himself?"

"Guy stuff with Remy... something like that. Probably buying nail polish, knowing John."

Rogue snorted. "We need to hang out more often. It's so rare to find a sane person in this town."

Wanda nodded in sad agreement. She tapped her lips with a finger. "Everything in this place is either too creepy or too generic..."

"You could always shoot for the flame-patterned whip," Rogue drawled.

Wanda paused, carefully set down what she was holding, and looked up, so Rogue could better get the effect of her raised eyebrow.

"I'm just saying... you were the one who asked me for help, you know."

"I'm beginning to doubt myself... I considered asking Kitty, but I figured you've got the whole Goth thing going for you... and time spent with Kitty tends to make me want to hang myself."

"Kitty would probably die of embarrassment if she came in here... she'd spontaneously combust from blushing so much."

"Did you get rid of the unicorns yet?"

"Nah, I painted my own wall. Lots of blood, gore, thick-rimmed glasses, stuff like that. It was soothing."

"I worry about you sometimes," Wanda sighed.

"You're dating a hyperactive firebug, and you question _my _sanity?"

"Well... yes!"

Rogue rolled her eyes. "Well, I guess he's cute, at least... why not just buy him a lighter?"

"There's the kinky thing, and anything fire-related would just be too obvious. Besides, if I can find it, he has it. I really do wish he'd warned me... I want to get him something good."

"Ah, yes, the ultimate question: what to buy for the psychotic firebug who has everything?"

Wanda, unable to think of a good retort, snapped a thong at her. Rogue gasped in overacted horror and grabbed one of her own, resulting in a furious underwire war. Thankfully, it was also very brief, so no employees noticed.

O-o-O-o-Oe

Several hours later, after obtaining John's present, Wanda crept inside the Brotherhood house. She was hoping to get some more sleep, since if John liked his present she probably wasn't going to get much tonight. And she was betting he would like his present.

She took a few cautious steps inside and looked to the left and right. Satisfied that she wasn't going to be tackled by kamikaze Australians, she breathed a sigh of relief and snuck upstairs.

O-o-O-o-O

John smiled down at his glass of tequila. A little fire face smiled back at him. "It's a beautiful thing, being able to buy highly flammable liquids… that aren't Kool-Aid." (2)

"It's even better that you keep buying them for me," said Remy, grinning.

"Off your tab."

"…I don't have a tab."

"You do now."

Remy lunged for John, who ducked out of reach. "Oh, would you look at the time! Wanda should be back at the house by now. Toodles!" He patted Remy on the head and ran off.

Remy sighed, rolling his eyes. It wasn't too often that John got the better of him; it was a sign that Remy was getting drunk. Remy shrugged, decided it was John's birthday and he deserved the victory, and grabbed the glass of tequila.

O-o-O-o-O

John arrived back at the Brotherhood house on Remy's "borrowed" motorcycle (he shouldn't be allowed to drive anyway). He glanced at the door, reminded himself for the millionth time that he wanted to paint it black, and walked inside. (3)

Glancing around, he saw none of his housemates. A nefarious grin spread across his face, and he climbed the steps. Wanda, as he had guessed, was asleep in her room. His grin widened, and he tiptoed inside. Well, tried, anyway. There was a loud creak as he stepped on an irate floorboard, and Wanda stirred. John winced, then shrugged and flopped on the bed beside her. "All you've done is sleep today," he said, prodding her.

"Have not," Wanda mumbled. "I got bothered by you, didn't I?"

"Doesn't count."

Wanda rolled over to face him. "Oh, yeah, and I bought your present."

"Yay! Where is it?"

Wanda sat up, nodding at some bags in the corner. John hugged her before attacking them. After a moment, he paused, looking confused. "…A sequined thong?"

Wanda yawned. "Wrong bag. That's for Rogue."

"Dare I even ask?"

"It's a reminder that she would do well never to challenge me again," Wanda replied, with a nasty smirk.

"…Ok…"

"It's in the other bag."

John pounced again, coming up with a black corset and a pair of boxers. John hugged them. "Ah, I love the smell of fresh kinkiness!"

"It's not all that kinky. There were some other things I could have bought, but I decided to stick with the tamer stuff."

John shrugged. "It's all the same to me."

Wanda stretched and got out of bed, grabbing the corset from him. "Scoot so I can change."

John stuck his face very close to hers, smirking. "If this all means what I think it means, it won't really matter if I watch or not."

"The package doesn't mean much without its wrapping,."

"I think it means a whole lot, sheila," John replied, leaning closer for a kiss.

Wanda smirked at him, pushing him back. "Not yet."

John made a face at her and went outside, leaning against the door. "Have I ever mentioned how much I hate waiting?" he asked, after about a minute.

"Have you ever tried to get on a corset?"

John shut up.

After another few minutes, Wanda said, "All right, fine."

John grinned and opened the door. He crossed the room and claimed the kiss she'd made him wait for.

"What, no period of admiration?" Wanda murmured. "I'm insulted."

"I've been waiting all day," John replied. If his voice hadn't been a murmur like hers, it would have qualified as a whine.

"So maybe you need to learn the virtue of patience."

"Or maybe you need to quit making me wait." He put his arms around her and started fiddling with the straps of her corset. "...Wanda, why'd you get me a present I couldn't unwrap? Is this the final irony or something?"

Wanda rolled her eyes. "No, you're just uncoordinated." She reached behind herself and hexed off the corset.

"No more waiting?"

"Nope."

(I'd like to make the ending more meaningful than that... but this story is basically just slice of life, so no worries. Well, hope you enjoyed the ride. Peace, love, and review!)

(1) Ordinarily, I don't cite disclaimer quotes, but this is (obviously) where I got the title from. It's a quote from _Darkened Skye._ :D

(2) In case I've never mentioned this before, Kool-Aid is indeed flammable. Neat, neh?

(3) Reference to Goldylokz (I can't remember if he painted the doors in "Nine to Five" or "November Rain"), since I haven't done one in a while.


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